
GEORGE B 







Copyright }1^. 



COFH^IGHT DEPOSIT 



BOOKS BY GEORGE BIRD GRINNELL 
Published by CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS 

The Wolf Hunters. Illustrated. 

i2mo, net $1.35 

Blackfeet Indian Stories. Illustrated, 

i2mo, net $1.00 

Beyond the Old Frontier. Illustrated. 

i2mo, net $1.50 

Trails of the Pathfinders. Illustrated. 

i2mo, net $1.50 

Blackfoot Lodge Tales. The Story 

of a Prairie People, ismo, net $1.75 

Pawnee Hero Stories and Folk Tales. 

Illustrated. lamo, . . . «^/ $1.75 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 




'Then come a puff of smoke and the prairie was afire." 

[Page 237] 



THE 
WOLF HUNTERS 

A STORY OF THE BUFFALO PLAINS 



EDITED AND ARRANGED 
FROM THE MANUSCRIPT ACCOUNT OF 

ROBERT M. PECK 



BY 

GEORGE BIRD GRINNELL 



Illustrated 



CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS 
NEW YORK:::::::::::::::::::::i9i4 



Copyright, 1914, by 
CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS 



Published September, 1914 



SEP 10 1914 




CI,A379421 



INTRODUCTORY NOTE 

In the days of the buffalo, wolfing was a rec- 
ognized industry. Small parties — two or more 
men — with team, saddle-horses, and camp outfit, 
used to go out into the buffalo range, establish a 
camp, and spend the winter there, killing buffalo 
and poisoning the carcasses with strychnine. The 
wolves that fed on these carcasses died about 
them, and their pelts were taken to camp, to be 
stretched and dried. 

The work was hard and not without its dan- 
gers. Storms were frequent, and often very se- 
vere, and the Indians were bitterly opposed to 
the operations of these wolf hunters, who killed 
great numbers of buffalo for wolf baits, as well as 
elk, antelope, deer, and other smaller animals. 
On the other hand, in winter the Indians did not 
usually travel about very much. 

The following pages describe the adventures of 
Mr. Peck and two companions — all recently dis- 
charged soldiers — during the winter of l86i- 
1862. 

Robert Morris Peck was born in Washington, 
Mason County, Kentucky, October 30, 1839. At 
the age of seventeen — November, 1856 — he en- 

V 



INTRODUCTORY NOTE 

listed in the First Cavalry, and the following year 
was sent to Fort Leavenworth and took part in 
the Cheyenne and other campaigns. He was dis- 
charged in l86i, and not very long afterward 
became a wagon-master, in which capacity he 
served in the army of the frontier. Mr. Peck 
died March 25, 1909. 

G. B. G. 

July, 1914. 



CONTENTS 



CHAPTSR 
I. 

II. 

III. 

IV. 

V. 

VI. 

VII. 

VIII. 

IX. 

X. 

XI. 

XII. 

XIII. 

XIV. 

XV. 



Tom's Plan 

We Get Our Discharges . . 
We Find an Outfit .... 
Back to the Buffalo Range 
We Meet Doubtful Characters 
Standing Off the Jayhawkers 
Jack Takes a Prisoner . . . 

Tom's Strategy 

Buffalo Near the Big Bend 
Why Satank Killed Peacock 
We Reach Fort Larned . . 
Our Camp on Walnut Creek 
Killed by the Indians . . . 
Satanta's Story 



Wild Bill Visits Us 
vii 



PAGE 
I 

7 

12 
24 
42 

SI 

^3 

72 

87 

96 

III 

122 

150 

159 
171 





CONTENTS 




CHAPTER 

XVI. 


Tom Locks the Stable Door . . 


PAGE 
184 


XVII. 


Volunteer Troops at Larned . . 


195 


XVIII. 


Bill Returns from His Scout . , 


206 


XIX. 


A Night in the Kiowa Camp 


216 


XX. 


We Trade with Indians . . . 


. 226 


XXL 


Jack's Close Call 


235 


XXII. 


Satank Arrives 


. 243 


XXIII. 


Surrounded by Kiowas .... 


■ 255 


XXIV. 


Captain Saunders* Fight . . . 


266 


XXV. 


We Part from Friends .... 


. 277 


XXVI. 


Back to God's Country . . . . 


297 



Vlll 



ILLUSTRATIONS 

*'Then come a pufF of smoke and the prairie 

was afire" Frontispiece 

Facing page 

"Five minutes to get out of range! Now, 

git!" 60 

"It must have been the work of Injuns" . . 154 

"Go to Tom" ^, 250 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

CHAPTER I 

TOM'S PLAN 

*'TX7'ELL, men, what will we do?" said Jack 
^^ Flanagan. **We can re-enlist or go back 
to the States and each hunt his job, or we can try- 
to get something to do where we can all three 
stick together." 

"Let's stick together if we can," said L 
*'Now, hold on, men," advised Tom Vance, 
"until you hear what I have got to say. I have 
been thinking a lot about what we'd best do, and 
last night I think it come to me." 

"Tell us what it is, Tom," said Jack eagerly. 
"Tis yourself has the wise head on his shoulders, 
and rd like to hear your plan." 

We were three soldiers of Company K, First 
Cavalry, whose terms of service were about to 
expire, and we looked forward with much eager- 
ness to the time when we should again be our own 
masters instead of being subject to military dis- 
cipline. Of course, we could re-enlist for another 
five years, and the government offered induce- 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

merits to do this. A soldier who re-enlisted within 
three months before the expiration*' of his term 
received a discharge three months in advance of 
its expiration, with furlough for that length of 
time and three months' extra pay. At the expi- 
ration of that time he was expected to report to 
his company or, if unable to do that, at the near- 
est military post. Failing to report for duty on 
time, he was regarded as a deserter. Tom Vance 
had served for three enlistments and Jack Flanagan 
for two. I was at the end of my first five years. 

We were at Fort Wise,* Colorado Territory, and 
it was the summer of 1861. The Civil War was 
just beginning. 

''What is your plan, Tom?" Jack repeated. 

*'Well, men," said Tom, **as I say, I thought 
of it last night, and I believe that we can spend 
the winter somewhere out here in the buffalo 
range hunting wolves and can make a good stake 
doing that. We all know something about the 
plains and something about wolf hunting, and if 
we can raise the money needed for the outfit, I 
believe we can make a go of it. The Indians are 
pretty quiet now, but, of course, we know some- 
thing about Indians and know that they've got 
to be looked out for all the time, but I guess we'll 
be safe enough. What do you think of it.?" 

* Afterward Fort Lyon, on the Arkansas River, and later aban- 
doned. The site is within a few miles of the present town of Lamar, 
Colorado. 



TOM'S PLAN 



It's sure a fine plan," said Jack, "if we can 
carry it through; but how much money is it going 
to take?" 

"It's a great scheme, Tom," I added, "and it 
seems to me there ought to be money in it; but 
have we the capital?" 

"We'll have some money," said Tom, "but, of 
course, we've got to sail pretty close to the wind 
and to cut our coat according to our cloth. When 
we get our 'final statements' cashed we ought 
to have about two hundred dollars apiece. This 
ought to buy us a good team of ponies and camp 
outfit, with suppHes for the winter. At outfitting 
towns like Saint Joe, Leavenworth, Kansas City, 
or Independence there are chances to buy a good 
team and camp outfit in the fall from people who 
are coming in from buffalo hunting, and get them 
cheap, too. 

"We ought to go to one of those towns, look out 
for such hunting parties, and, if we can find what 
we want cheap, take it in; then we can strike out 
for the plains by the old Santa Fe road, select a 
location in about the thickest of the herds, build 
us a cabin or dugout, and get ready for winter." 

Jack and I agreed that the plan was sound, and 
Tom then asked us for any ideas or suggestions 
that we might have. We both felt, however, that 
his fifteen years' service had given him so much 
experience that he was much more likely to think 
of the necessary points than we, and we had far 

3 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

more faith in his judgment than in our own. We 
asked him to go ahead and give us the further 
details of his plan so far as he had thought them 
out. 

"First," Tom said, *'we must get what we abso- 
lutely need, and if we have any money left after 
that we can buy luxuries. For grub we'd better 
take about the same as government rations — flour, 
bacon, beans, coffee, sugar, rice, and salt. A 
Sharp's rifle and a Colt's navy apiece, with plenty 
of cartridges, will be all the arms we'll want, and, 
besides the clothing we already have, each man 
ought to have a good suit of buckskins. These 
are better than any cloth for wear and to keep off 
the wind. We can make overcoats, caps, and mit- 
tens out of furs as soon as we take a few pelts and 
dress them. Most of these things we can get here 
before we are discharged. The first sergeants of 
the cavalry companies often have some of these 
things over and will sell them to us for very little 
money." 

How about tobacco and pipes?" asked Jack. 
'Tobacco don't come under the head of general 
supplies, and, as Peck don't use it, every man will 
have to buy his own tobacco." 

"How about whiskey?" asked Jack, for he had 
a weakness for liquor. 

Tom answered him quickly: "There'll be no 
whiskey taken along if I am to have any say in 
the plans for the expedition. When we leave the 

4 






TOM'S PLAN 

settlements you'll have to swear off until we get 
back again; and that reminds me that when we 
get our 'final statements' cashed it will be a good 
idea for you to turn over your money to Peck, all 
except a small allowance for a spree, if you must 
have one." 

Jack was forced to yield to the decision of the 
majority that whiskey should form no part of our 
supplies. 

''Seems to me,*' I began, to change the subject, 
*'that we've got to decide on where we'll go. 
Where do you think we'd better locate our winter 
camp, Tom?" 

"As to that, I haven't quite made up my mind," 
said he, "but it must be somewhere near the centre 
of the buffalo range and not too far from the 
Santa Fe road. Fort Larned is about the middle 
of the range this season, and I've thought some of 
pitching our camp on Walnut Creek, about twenty 
miles north of the fort." 

"It's now toward the last of August," continued 
Tom, "and our time will be out in September. 
We can call for our discharges now any time that 
we see a chance to get transportation into the 
States. It'll take us about a month to reach the 
Missouri River if we go by bull train, and that'll 
be about the first of October. Allowing about 
ten days to fit out for the return, it'll take us the 
rest of October to go back to the neighborhood 
of Fort Larned. We won't want to do much wolf 

5 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

skinning before the middle of November, when 
the winter coat begins to get good, but there'll 
be plenty of work to keep us busy, building, fitting 
up camp, and getting ready for the cold weather. 
It won't do for us to have our camp too close to 
Fort Larned or the Santa Fe road, for around 
there buffalo and wolves will be scarce, but we 
want to be near enough to call for our mail oc- 
casionally. Besides that, if Indians should be 
troublesome it's a good thing to be nigh to Uncle 
Sam's soldiers." 

**They say," put in Jack, "that there's plenty 
of otter and beaver in Walnut Creek." 

"Yes," replied Tom, "we'll be apt to find some 
of them, but they're nothing like as plenty as 
they used to be. All those timbered creeks used 
to have lots of beaver and otter in them, and 
we'll find some of them, but our best hold will be 
wolfskins. They are plentiest and easiest to get. 
We'll take a few steel traps along to try for otter 
and beaver. We'll take anything we can in the 
way of fur." 



CHAPTER II 

WE GET OUR DISCHARGES 

^ I ^HE next day Tom came to me looking rather 
serious, and I saw that he had something on 
his mind, and when he had gotten me alone he ex- 
plained what this was. 

**rve been thinking it over. Peck," he said, 
"and I've pretty near made up my mind that we'd 
better drop Jack and either pick up another man 
or else you and me go it without a third man. I 
am afraid that Jack's fondness for liquor will get 
him into trouble and so make trouble for us. I 
hate to go back on him, for he's a rattlin' good 
fellow when he is out of the reach of whiskey, 
but, when he can get it, he's a regular drunkard." 

"That's so, Tom," I answered; "but when we 
get started back to the plains we'll soon have him 
where he can't get whiskey, and then he'll be all 
right. I think we can manage him by making 
him turn over all his money except a few dollars 
to you or to me, and when his money is gone we'll 
see that he gets no more. If we can get him to 
promise that after he gets through he will let 
liquor alone, he will do it. Jack prides himself on 
being a man of his word." 

7 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

**Well/' said Tom with some hesitation, "we'll 
take him then, but we must have a fair and square 
understanding with him and fire him if he don't 
come to time and behave Hke a man. We can't 
fool away time with a drunken man." 

Besides being an all-around good fellow, Jack 
had a fiddle and could play it and could also sing. 
On these musical accomplishments I counted for 
much enlivening of our lonely winter's work. 

When spoken to about binding himself to let 
whiskey alone. Jack readily promised that after 
one little spree when we got our pay he would 
swear off entirely till the wolf hunting trip was 
over. He was willing to turn over his money to 
Tom or to me when we should be paid off, reserv- 
ing only a few dollars for the ''good time" that he 
had promised himself. 

We now began trading with the Indians for the 
skins needed for our buckskin suits, and as we got 
them we smoked them, using for this purpose a 
large dry-goods box, to the bottom of which, on 
the inside, we tacked the hides in place. The box 
was then turned over a little smothered fire in a 
hole in the ground. We found that this way of 
smoking skins was an improvement on the Indian 
method, smoking them more quickly and evenly 
and giving them a more uniform color. 

In 1 86 1 the agency for the five tribes — Chey- 
ennes, Arapahoes, Kiowas, Comanches, and Prai- 
rie Apaches — was at Fort Wise, and, as the time 

8 



WE GET OUR DISCHARGES 

approached for the Indian agent to make the an- 
nual distribution of gifts from the government, 
the tribes would come in to receive their annui- 
ties. Our trading with the Indians had to be done 
quietly, because the post sutler had the exclusive 
privilege of all Indian trade on the post reservation, 
and, by order of the commanding officer, no one 
else might carry on any traffic with the Indians. 

From one of the cavalry first sergeants we each 
bought a rifle, revolver, and some cartridges, and 
such additional soldier clothing as we needed. 
These purchases were, of course, illegal. It was 
a serious offence for any non-commissioned officer 
or soldier to sell government property. On the 
other hand, it was very frequently done. 

A few days later Tom came into the quarters 
and gleefully exclaimed: "l\e struck it. A bull 
train is corralling about a mile above the post, and 
the wagon-master has agreed to haul us into the 
settlements. It is one of Majors & Russell's out- 
fits going back empty, and the wagon boss agrees 
to take us and let us work our passage, for he is 
shorthanded. The train will lie over here to-mor- 
row to get some work done, and that will give us 
time to get our discharges, draw our rations, and 
say good-by to the other men." 

**But, Tom," said Jack, **how can we work our 
passage in a bull train when ne'er a one of us knows 
anything about driving bulls?" 

I told the wagon boss that," answered Tom, 



(( 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

"and he said it made no difference, that he had 
other work that any greenhorn could do — night 
herding or driving the cavvy-yard. We're to get 
our plunder out at the side of the road as he pulls 
through the post. Now, as that is settled, let's 
put on our best jackets and go over to the captain's 
quarters and ask for our discharges." 

"Well, Tom," said Jack, "we'll let you do the 
talking for us, for likely enough the *old man ' will 
give us a lot of taffy and try to persuade us to 
re-enlist. You can give him our reasons for not 
taking on again better than me and Peck." 

Before long we had marched briskly across the 
parade-ground and lined up in front of the cap- 
tain's door, with Tom in the post of honor on the 
right. The captain opened the door and stepped 
out, when we all three saluted, and as he re- 
turned it he asked : 

"Well, men, what's wanting?" 

Standing rigidly at attention. Jack and I kept 
silence while Tom spoke, saying: 

"We've called, sir, to see if the captain would 
be so kind as to give us our discharges so we can 
take advantage of the chance to go into the States 
with the bull train that's camped in the bottom 
yonder." 

"Why, yes; certainly," said the captain slowly; 
"but I had hoped that you men would re-enlist 
in time to get the benefit of the three months' extra 
pay with furlough. You are pretty sure to re- 

lO 



WE GET OUR DISCHARGES 

enlist sooner or later, and it would be better for 
you to take on in your old company. It looks as 
if the war would continue for some time yet, and, 
as we will probably all be ordered into the States 
soon, there will be good opportunities for well- 
trained soldiers to get commissions in the vokm- 
teers." 

** We're very grateful to the captain for his good 
opinion, but we've concluded to go down into 
the buffalo range and put in the winter skinning 
wolves,'' said Tom. "Next summer, if we take a 
notion to re-enlist, we'll hunt the old company 

up. 

**A11 right, men," said the captain, apparently 
not wishing to seem unduly anxious about the mat- 
ter; "you may go to the first sergeant and tell him 
I order your discharges and final statements made 
out. 

Thanking him, we saluted and marched ofF. 
The documents were made out in due course 
and handed to us by the sergeant, with compli- 
ments on the good service we had all performed 
and the expression of a hope that when we had 
"blowed in our money" we would go back to 
the old company. For some hours we were busy 
packing up, happy in the feeling that we were 
once more citizens. We spent some time shaking 
hands and bidding good-by to every one, and in 
some cases the partings were rather moving. 



II 



CHAPTER III 

WE FIND AN OUTFIT 

TXTHEN the dusty bull train came rolling along 
* ^ the road past the garrison it found us wait- 
ing. Our property was stowed in an empty wagon, 
and, again shouting good-bys to the comrades who 
had come out to see us off, we began our tedious, 
dusty, dirty march with the bull train. 

At that time Majors & Russell, of Leavenworth, 
Kansas, had the contract for transporting govern- 
ment supplies to all frontier posts. Mr. Majors 
had the reputation of being a very religious man, 
and in fitting out trains required all wagon-masters 
and teamsters to sign a written contract agreeing to 
use no profane language and not to gamble or to 
travel on Sundays. At starting he furnished each 
man with a Bible and hymn-book, and exhorted 
him to read the gospel and hold religious services 
on the Sabbath. This statement is regarded by 
many people of the present day as an old frontier 
joke, but it is actual fact. 

The wagons — called prairie-schooners — ^were 
large and heavy and usually drawn by six yoke 
of oxen to the team. When outward bound they 
were loaded at the rate of one thousand pounds 
of freight to the yoke. Twenty-five such teams 

12 



WE FIND AN OUTFIT 



constituted a train, in charge of a wagon-master 
and assistant, who were mounted on mules. The 
travel was slow, dusty, and disagreeable beyond 
description. At camping time the trains corralled 




Bu2l Tram corraile<f^/'ar~'camp: 



across the road, a half circle on either side, leaving 
the open road running through the centre of the 
corral. 

Our route was down the Arkansas River on the 
north bank, but the train itself did not go to the 
water. That used for cooking and drinking was 
carried along in casks, which were replenished at 
every opportunity. The detail of this travel, while 
interesting, cannot be given here, but on the jour- 

13 



. THE WOLF HUNTERS 

ney we learned a great deal that was absolutely 
new to us. 

On the first night out from Fort Wise we were 
awakened by a bull-whacker, who brought to our 
bed two men who had asked for us and who proved 
to be deserters. We felt the sympathy for them 
which the average soldier feels for a deserter, gave 
them a little money and some rations, and rec- 
ommended them to hurry on, travelling at night 
and lying hid in the daytime. They went on, as 
advised. 

The next morning a sergeant and two privates 
from Fort Wise galloped up behind us and stopped 
to speak to us, asking if we had seen a couple 
of deserters. We gravely told them that we had 
seen no such men and suggested that they might 
have gone west from Fort Wise. The sergeant 
made a perfunctory search of the wagons and then 
went on, to camp a little farther along and kill 
time until it was necessary to return to the post. 
In those days such pursuing parties often overtook 
the deserters they were after, gave them part of 
their rations, and sent them along on their road. 

At the Big Timbers, on the Arkansas, we met 
with a large band of Cheyenne Indians on the 
way up to Fort Wise to receive their annuities; and 
when we reached the Santa Fe road, where it 
crossed the Arkansas, coming from the Cimarron 
River by the sixty-mile dry stretch called the 
Jornada, we saw a government six-mule train, 

14 



WE FIND AN OUTFIT 

travelling east, just going into camp on the river 
bank. 

Here, we thought, was an opportunity to get 
along faster and travel more comfortably if we 
could arrange for a transfer to the mule train. 
Its days' drives were about twice as long as those 
of the bull train, which seldom exceeded twelve 
miles a day. We therefore sent Tom back to 
the mule train, and he found in the wagon-master 
of the train an old acquaintance, who cheerfully 
agreed to take us on to Fort Leavenworth with- 
out charge. Next morning, as the mule 
train passed us, we bade good-by to our kind but 
dirty friends the bull-whackers and tumbled our- 
selves and our baggage into one of the empty 
mule wagons and went on. 

At the Santa Fe crossing of the Arkansas, we 
had begun to see a few buffalo; and the herds grew 
larger as we went on until we reached Pawnee 
Fork, near Fort Larned, which seemed to be about 
the centre of their range. After we passed the 
fort their numbers decreased until we came to 
the Little Arkansas, where we saw the last of 
them. Our old company, K of the First Cavalry, 
had built the first quarters at Larned, in 1859. 
When we passed it, in the autumn of 1861, it was 
garrisoned by two companies of the Second In- 
fantry and one of the Second Dragoons and was 
commanded by Major Julius Hayden, Second 
Infantry. 

15 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 



After joining the mule train Tom, Jack, and I 
made it our business to keep the outfit supplied 
with fresh meat while passing through the bufFalo 
range. We also killed numbers of ducks, geese, 
brant, and sand-hill cranes, borrowing the wagon- 



iitititfiiititiiitiiiti 

MuJe Train camped in park 

6 6 i i i fi 6 6 6 li i li 



Sr-etk 



Wa^on If aster's Tent \a/id 




master's shotgun for bird hunting. This sug- 
gested to us that a good shotgun would be a useful 
part of our equipment for the winter's work. 

In due time we reached Fort Leavenworth, re- 
ceived our pay from our old paymaster, Major 
H. E. Hunt, and then went down to Leavenworth 
City, two and a half miles from the fort. We 
stopped at a boarding-house kept by an old dra- 
goon who had a wide acquaintance among citi- 
zens and soldiers and who could and would be 
useful to us in getting together our outfit. 

i6 



WE FIND AN OUTFIT 

The war between the States was now in full 
blast, and blue cloth and brass buttons were seen 
everywhere. Several of our former comrades had 
enlisted in the volunteers, and some had obtained 
commissions. 

According to our previous understanding, I had 
been chosen as treasurer and bookkeeper for the 
expedition and began to keep accounts of receipts 
and expenses. Each man turned into a common 
fund, to be used in the purchase of an outfit, 
one hundred and fifty dollars — making a common 
capital of four hundred and fifty dollars. The bal- 
ance of each man's money was left in his hands to 
use as he saw fit, except in the case of Jack, whom 
we had persuaded to turn over all his money to 
me. Jack begged ten dollars from me to go off 
and have a good time, and Tom advised me to 
give it; but he warned Jack that he would prob- 
ably bring up in the lockup and declared that if 
he did so he should stay there until we were ready 
to start. Both Jack and I had so much respect 
for Tom's greater age and experience that we never 
thought of taking offence at his scoldings. 

For two days Tom and I were busy going about 
from one stable to another, hoping to find a ready- 
made camp outfit, team, and wagon offered for sale 
cheap. Nothing Hke that had as yet been seen. 
We had heard nothing of our Irishman, and I was 
getting a Httle uneasy about him and asked Tom 
if I should not go to the police station, pay Jack's 

17 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

fine, and get him out. Tom agreed, and expressed 
some sorrowful reflections on the blemish to Jack's 
character which his love for Hquor implied. 

As expected. Jack was found behind the bars. 
He had evidently received a terrible beating, part 
of it from a gang of toughs who had tried to rob 
him, and the remainder from the police who had 
finally, with much difficulty, arrested him. I was 
obliged to pay a fine of twenty dollars to get Jack 
out. 

A further search of Leavenworth City failed to 
show us what we wanted, and we were getting dis- 
couraged. To buy a team and a camp equipment 
at the prices that were asked would take all the 
money we could raise and still leave us poorly pre- 
pared for our expedition. We were considering 
the possibility of doing better in Kansas City and 
Saint Joe and had half decided to go to those places 
when one day Jack came rushing in, exclaiming: 

"IVe struck it. I've struck just the rig that 
we want. A lot of fine-haired fellows from the 
East have just got in from a buffalo hunt with a 
splendid outfit they want to sell. They will take 
anything they can get for it, because they are 
going back East on the railroad and are in a hurry 
to get off; and who do you think I found in charge 
of the outfit but Wild Bill Hickock?* Bill told 

* James Butler Hickock, better known as Wild Bill, was a famous 
character in Kansas and the West from i860 to 1876. In 1861 he 
was sometimes called "Indian Bill" or "Buckskin Bill," but the 

18 



WE FIND AN OUTFIT 

me he'd been hired by three fellows to buy the 
team and rig up the whole equipment for them, and 
he'd been their guide. He says it's a dandy out- 
fit. He don't know how much they'll ask for it, 
but says they don't care for money and will give 
it away if they can't sell it. They've left Bill to 
get rid of it. It's over yonder on Shawnee Street, 
and we'd better look it over and see what sort of 
a bargain we can make." 

nickname "Wild Bill" soon became so firmly fixed that few people 
knew his real name. 

Wild Bill was the son of New England parents, born in Vermont, 
who moved to New York immediately after their marriage, which 
occurred in 1829 or 1830. From New York they moved to Illinois, 
settling first in Putnam County and later in La Salle County, Here, 
near the village of Troy Grove, the son, James Butler, was born, on 
May 27, 1837. 

He went West when only a boy' and for some time served as scout 
at different military posts and afterward as marshal and sheriff in 
various new towns in Kansas. He was a man of unflinching courage 
and a natural shot with the pistol and had many extraordinary ad- 
ventures, in all of which he was successful. A remarkable incident 
told of him was the killing of Jake McCandless and his gang of twelve 
men in a hand-to-hand fight near Fort Hayes, Kansas. 

In 1873 or 1874, with William F. Cody and John Omohundro and 
a number of Pawnee Indians, he appeared for a short time on the 
stage in one of Ned Buntline's dramas of the plains, but his career 
as an actor was brief. 

In March, 1876, Wild Bill was married to Mrs. Agnes Thatcher 
Lake and that summer went to the Black Hills, where he prospected. 
Here, in Deadwood, South Dakota, August 2, 1876, he was murdered, 
while playing cards, by Jack McCall, who walked up behind him and 
shot him in the back of the head. McCall was tried at Deadwood 
and acquitted. Subsequently he was rearrested by Colonel N. J. 
O'Brien, then sheriff of Cheyenne, Wyoming, and was taken to 
Dakota, tried, convicted, and executed during February, 1877. 

Wild Bill was in no sense a desperado. He was a mild-mannered, 
pleasant man who avoided trouble when it was possible, but when 
trouble came he met it with a strong heart. 

19 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

By this time we were all heading for Jim Brown's 
livery stable. There we found the wagon in the 
back lot, and the team, a good pair of mules, in 
the barn. When we had looked over the well ap- 
pointed rig and made a rough estimate of its prob- 
able value we began to fear that the owners would 
ask more than we could pay for it. Wild Bill was 
absent. 

I asked: "What do you think of the outfit, 
Tom?" 

**It's one of the best camp equipments I ever 
saw," replied Tom, "but I am afraid it's too rich 
for our blood. Those mules and harness alone 
would be cheap at two hundred and fifty dollars. 
The wagon is easy worth another hundred dollars, 
and there is no telling what the camp outfit cost. 
They must have let Bill fit things up to his own 
notion, and Bill never did know the value of 
money. It may be, as Bill said, that they don't 
expect much for it and they'll let us have it cheap 
as dirt. We'd better be quick, if we can, before 
some one else snaps it up." 

"Here comes Wild Bill himself!" exclaimed 
Jack; and sure enough, that first of frontier scouts, 
in beaded buckskins and with his long, tawny hair 
hanging down his back, came striding through the 
barn to meet us. Bill confirmed what Jack had 
told us, and said that as these young men seemed 
to have more money than they knew what to do 
with he had rigged up as good an outfit as he knew 

20 



WE FIND AN OUTFIT 

how. He continued: "The wagons, mules, har- 
ness, camp outfit, and some grub left over is for 
sale, but their riding horses are not for sale. They 
are to be shipped on the cars back to New York. 
They've got a couple of pretty fair broncos which 
they got here at starting, and they'll sell you them, 
or throw them in for good measure. What will 
you give me for the whole lot?" 

Tom asked if he was willing to let us unload the 
wagon and look at its contents, to which Bill as- 
sented. We found it an extraordinarily complete 
camp outfit, with many duplicate parts for the 
wagon, a Sibley tent, a sheet-iron cook-stove, a 
mess-chest, and a complete mess-kit, or cooking 
outfit. There was a large amount of provisions left 
over. The wagon and the animals were good and 
the broncos had saddles and bridles. 

While we were unpacking the wagon Bill told 
us something about the trip, which, from the point 
of view of the hunters, had been very successful, 
though commonplace enough as Bill saw it. When 
the examination was completed Bill asked : ** What 
do you think of the outfit, Tom, and what will 
you give me for the whole caboodle?" 

''It's a good rig, and no mistake," replied Tom 
with a seemingly hopeless sigh, "but. Bill, I am 
afraid we haven't money enough to buy it. The 
outfit was all right for your purposes, but we'll 
have to buy a lot more things and must have 
some money left after buying a team and camp 

21 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

outfit. To buy your outfit would clean us 
out. 

"Well," said Bill, "make a bid of what you can 
afford to give, not what it's worth. They do not 
expect to get what it's worth." 

"It sounds like a mighty small price, Bill, and 
I'm ashamed to make you the offer," said Tom 
hesitatingly, "but two hundred dollars is as much 
as we can afford to give and still buy our other 
truck. Would your men consider such a bid as 
that.?" 

"Boys, that does seem like giving the outfit 
away, and until I see my men I won't say whether 
they'll take it or not, but I'll talk for you a little 
and help you out all I can. They told me to sell 
the rig for whatever I could get, and I'll tell 
them that two hundred dollars is the best offer I 
have had — it's the only one; if they say it's a go 
the outfit is yours." 

As we stood on a corner near the levee awaiting 
Bill's return we heard the long, hoarse whistle of 
a steamboat, and saw one approaching from down 
the river, though still some distance away. A 
little later Bill came hurrying out of the hotel 
and gladdened our hearts by telling us that our 
oflPer had been accepted. His men were to take 
the approaching steamer to Saint Joe, and he 
must hurry back to Brown's stable and help get 
their fine hunting-horses aboard the boat. 

I counted him out the two hundred dollars, 

22 



WE FIND AN OUTFIT 

which he stuffed in his pocket without recounting. 
We had bought for two hundred dollars an outfit 
worth at least five hundred dollars. 

We soon had the six fine horses on board the 
boat. Bill went up to the cabin to turn over the 
money we had paid him. Soon the steamer's big 
bell clanged, and just as the deck-hands were 
about to pull in the gangplank, Bill came run- 
ning out and turned and waved good-by to his 
employers, who stood on the hurricane-deck. 

In the autumn of 1861 there was no railroad in 
Kansas, and the nearest point to reach the cars 
going east from Leavenworth would have been 
Weston, six or eight miles above, on the Missouri 
side of the river. The railroad from Saint Joseph 
east was patrolled by Union soldiers, to protect 
the bridges and keep it open for travel. 



23 



CHAPTER IV 
BACK TO THE BUFFALO RANGE 

A S we started back up-town Bill exclaimed 
-^ ^ gleefully: 

*'Well, boys, what do you think? When I 
offered them fellows the money you paid me for 
the outfit they would not take a dollar of it, but 
told me to keep it for an advance payment — a 
sort of retaining fee — for my services next sea- 
son. They're coming out again next spring with 
a bigger party and made me promise to meet 
them here and go with them." 

After Bill left us Tom said: "Bill never did 
know the value of money. He could just as well 
as not have had the whole outfit that he sold us 
or, if he didn't want to keep it, could have sold 
it for twice what we paid him for it. But he's a 
free-hearted, generous fellow and never thought 
of it. He's brave as a lion; never was known to 
do a mean or cowardly trick; a dead shot. I am 
afraid, though, that he will die with his boots on, 
and die young, too." 

When we got back to the stable we found Jim 
Brown, the proprietor, there, and Tom told him 
that we had bought the wagon, mules, broncos, 
and so forth, and would pay his charges before 

24 



BACK TO THE BUFFALO RANGE 

taking them away, as soon as Wild Bill came 
around to confirm the sale. 

**Now, men," said the veteran, when we reached 
our boarding-house, "we're beginnin' to see our 
way toward gettin* out of this town, an' the 
sooner the better, I say; but we've got to do some 
more plannin'. I'll give you my plans, an' if you 
can suggest better ways, all right. To-morrow 
mornin' we'll pay our bills, an' then we'll hitch 
up an' pull out onto that open ground out t'other 
side of Broadway and camp there an' go to 
work gettin' ready to leave here. In camp we 
can overhaul the outfit an' see just exactly what 
more we need." 

"Nothing could be better," chipped in Jack. 

"Same here," I added. "Now tell us what to 
do to get ready for travelling?" 

"Hold on," said Tom, "I've got another sug- 
gestion to oflFer. We're going to have a heap 
heavier load than them hunters had, an' I'm in 
favor of gettin' a pair of lead harness an' spread- 
ers an' putting them broncos on for leaders an' 
work four going out. We'll want to take about 
five months' suppHes for ourselves an' what grain 
we can haul to help our animals through the win- 
ter, an' all that will make too much of a load for 
the mules alone. We can't afford to feed our 
stock full rations of grain, but they ought to have 
some to help 'em through the worst weather an' 
keep 'em from gettin' too poor." 

25 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

"That's a good Idea; but what if the mustangs 
won't work?" suggested Jack. "It's a common 
trick with their sort to balk in harness, though 
they may be good under the saddle." 

"I know that," replied Tom, "an' so we want 
that question settled right here. Ef one or both 
of 'em refuses to pull we'll trade 'em off for some- 
thing that'll work." 

On going over to the stable next morning before 
breakfast to give the team a rubbing down, I 
found Jack there ahead of me, hard at work with 
currycomb and horse brush, grooming the stock. 

Brown told us that Bill had called and said he 
should let us have the outfit when we came for it. 

After breakfast, while Tom went down street 
to a second-hand store and bought lead harness 
and spreaders for the mustangs. Jack and I har- 
nessed the mules and put all our belongings into 
the wagon. We were delighted to find that the 
broncos when hitched up walked away like old 
work horses, which they evidently were. 

Moving out Shawnee Street, beyond Broadway, 
where there was open ground for camping, we 
made camp near a little creek and, after unloading 
the wagon, gave everything a general overhauling 
to determine what more we needed to fully equip 
us for the trip. 

We had noticed a nice-looking black shepherd 
dog around Brown's stable that we had supposed 
belonged to Brown; but now discovered that it 

26 



BACK TO THE BUFFALO RANGE 

was the property of Wild Bill. The dog seemed 
to be very intelHgent and his owner prized him 
highly. 

After establishing our camp our commander, old 
Tom, gave his orders, as occasion suggested, and 
Jack and I promptly executed them. 

*'One of us must always be in camp," said the 
old man, "for we don't know what prowler might 
come along an' steal somethin' if we ain't here 
to watch things. Now, for to-day, Til be camp 
guard while you youngsters do the foraging. 
First thing. Jack, you an' Peck light out an' hunt 
up some wood to cook with." 

As the camp-stove would be so much handier 
and more economical of fuel than an open fire, we 
had taken it out of the wagon and placed it on the 
ground, with the mess-chest near by — ^just behind 
the wagon — and, after pitching the tent, moved 
the stove inside. 

Jack and I skirmished along the creek, and each 
gathered an armful of wood which we broke up 
into stove lengths, while Tom busied himself 
overhauling the mess-chest and cooking utensils. 

When we had finished our job Tom gave another 
order: 

"Now, while you're restin' Jack, you take the 
two mules, an', Peck, you take the two broncos, 
an' go back up the street to that blacksmith shop 
just this side of the Mansion House an' git 'em 
shod all 'round. That'll take about all forenoon. 

27 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

An' while the blacksmith is workin' on 'em one 
of you can stay there an' the other can go to a 
meat market an' git a piece of fresh meat an' 
bring it out to camp right away so that I can put 
it on to cook for dinner. While you're gettin' the 
meat, bring a loaf or two of soft bread, too. We've 
got plenty of hardtack in the wagon, but we'd 
better use baker's bread while we're in reach of it 
an' save the hardtack to use on the road, in 
camps where fuel is scarce." 

Leaving Jack at the blacksmith's shop to attend 
to the shoeing of the team, I carried out Tom's 
various instructions. 

While a kettle of bean soup was boiling Tom 
was busy rearranging things in the mess-chest and 
wagon. Fearing that he might neglect the soup 
and let it scorch, I asked: 

*'Tom, is there any danger of the beans stick- 
ing to the bottom of the camp-kettle and burn- 

ingr 

"What do you take me for, young fellow?" he 
retorted indignantly. "Do you s'pose I've been 
a-cookin' an' eatin' Uncle Sam's beans all these 
years an' ain't learnt how to cook bean soup with- 
out burnin' it.? Ef that soup scorches I'll agree 
to eat the whole mess." 

"Of course you know how to cook 'em," I said 
apologetically, "but I noticed the beans are get- 
tin' soft and thought maybe while you was busy 
at something else they might get burnt." 

28 



BACK TO THE BUFFALO RANGE 

"Ain't you never learnt how to keep beans 
from stickin' to the bottom of the camp-kettle?" 

**No, except to keep stirring them," I replied. 

**Well, I didn't think you'd a-got through five 
years of soldierin' on the plains without learnin' 
how to keep beans from burning. Now, I'll tell 
you of a trick that's worth a dozen of stirrin' 'em 
when you've got somethin' else to do besides 
standin' by the kettle an' watchin' 'em. When 
your beans begin to git soft just drop two or three 
metal spoons into the camp-kettle, then go on 
about your business, an' long as they don't bile 
dry they won't burn. You savvy the philosophy 
of it?" 

"No, I don't." 

"Well, it's just this: the heat keeps the spoons 
a-dancin' around in the bottom of the kettle, an' 
that keeps the beans from setthn' an' burning. 
Savvy? Easy as rollin' ofF a log when it's ex- 
plained to you, ain't it?" 

After getting back to camp with the mules and 
broncos newly shod, we had just taken our seats 
around our mess-box table when who should ride 
up but Wild Bill. He had heard from Brown of 
our move and came out to see how we were fixed. 
As he reined up near us Jack saluted him with: 

"Get down. Bill, an' hitch your boss an' watch 
me eat." 

"Not by a durned sight, Jack; I can do a heap 
better than that," replied the scout, too famihar 

29 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

with the rough hospitality of the frontier to wait 
for a more formal invitation; "but if you've got 
time to watch me eat I'll show you how to do it." 

He dismounted, tied his horse to the wagon, 
turned up a water bucket for a seat, and sat down 
to dinner with us. **The smell of that bean soup 
catches me." 

As a surprise, when we had nearly finished Tom 
went to the oven and brought out a couple of nice 
hot pies. 

'^What a blessin' it is, sure," said Jack, "to 
have somethin' to cook an' somebody that knows 
how to cook it!" 

"Well," replied Tom, "it's better than having a 
surplus of cooks an' no rations — a state of affairs 
we all know something about." 

"I was just a-goin' to remark," added Bill, 
"that I see you've got a good cook in the outfit, an' 
that's no small help. I always knew Tom was a 
first-class soldier, an' now I've found out another 
of his accomplishments. Boys, I expect to be out 
to Fort Larned before long, an' if I ever strike 
your trail out in that neighborhood I'll sure 
foller it up an' invite myself to take a square meal 
with you once in a while." 

"Well, I'll tell ye right now. Bill, you'll always 
be welcome," said Jack, while Tom and I added: 
"Second the motion." 

"My special errand out here," said Bill as he 
unhitched his horse and prepared to mount, "was 

30 



BACK TO THE BUFFALO RANGE 

to tell you that when you get ready to lay in your 
supplies for the trip I think you can do better 
to buy 'em of Tom Carney* than anywhere else 
in town. There's where I bought the truck for 
our trip, an' I found his prices reasonable, an' 
everything was satisfactory an' packed in good 
shape. Tom's accommodatin', an' reliable, and 
an all-round good fellow to trade with." 

While standing by his horse Bill's dog had taken 
post in front of him and by wagging his tail and 
looking up at his master was trying to attract his 
notice, seeing which the scout stooped down and 
began talking to his canine friend and patting him 
affectionately, which seemed to put the dog in an 
ecstasy of delight. 

"Bill," said Tom, "I've been wondering ef we 
couldn't manage some way to beat you out of 
that dog. Don't you want to git rid of him.?" 

"No, Tom," replied the scout, "money wouldn't 
buy that dog. But there's been two or three at- 
tempts made to steal him from me since I've been 
here in town — I come pretty nigh having to kill a 
feller about him just the other day — an', seeing as 
he's taken such a shine to you fellers, I was 
thinkin' of gettin' you to take him along with you 
out to Larned an' leave him with somebody there 
to keep for me till I come out; or maybe you'd 
keep him with your outfit." 

* Tom Carney, wholesale groceryman of Leavenworth City, was, 
a year or two later, elected governor of Kansas. 

31 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

''Just the thing!" exclaimed Jack. "We'll take 
him along, all right, an' we won't leave him at Fort 
Larned, either — ^we'U keep him till you call for 
im. 

"Well, boys, I b'lieve he'll be useful to you, for 
he's a shepherd an' takes to minding stock natu- 
rally, an' he's a good all-round watch-dog — one of 
the smartest I ever saw. I call him 'Found,' 
'cause I found him when he seemed to be lost. 
You'll have to keep him tied up for a few days 
when you leave here; after that, I think, he'll stick 
to you, 'cause he's been used to lookin' after them 
mules an' ponies all summer. But, mind you, now, 
I ain't a-givin' him to you — only lendin' him." 

"All right, Bill; he's your dog," said Tom, "an* 
we'll take good care of him till you want him." 
Thus Found became one of us. 

That afternoon Tom began the work of esti- 
mating the supplies that we would need for our 
winter's trip, endeavoring to calculate the quan- 
tity of each item of the provisions and from that 
the weight that we would have to haul in our 
wagon. As an old soldier, he made his figures on 
the basis of rations — one man's allowance of each 
article of food for one day. He said: 

"We'll make our estimate at about the rate of 
government rations, but, as we don't have to re- 
strict ourselves exactly to Uncle Sam's allowance 
we'll allow a margin in some things to suit our 



own notions." 



32 



BACK TO THE BUFFALO RANGE 

Tom calculated that about four months' rations 
for three men ought to be enough to carry us from 
the middle of October to the middle of February, 
and he told me to make my requisition for four 
hundred rations of each article and set down the 
number of pounds' weight of each as I went 
along. 

"Of breadstufFs," he said, "we ought to take 
about three fourths flour — three hundred pounds 
— and one fourth hardtack — one hundred pounds. 
That'll make four hundred pounds of freight. 
Then, as an extra, a sack of corn-meal — fifty 
pounds. 

"As we'll be able to kill plenty of wild meat, 
two hundred rations of bacon will be enough. At 
three fourths of a pound to the ration, that will 
be one hundred and fifty pounds." 

So he went through the list of beans, rice, hom- 
iny, coffee, tea, and sugar, with vinegar, salt, pep- 
per, yeast-powder, together with two hundred 
pounds of potatoes and one hundred pounds of 
onions. With some dried fruit and soap the total 
weight came to one thousand five hundred and 
forty-one pounds, to which he added one thousand 
pounds of corn, as feed for the animals during the 
worst weather. He purposed to take also a scythe 
and hay-fork and, as soon as we got into camp, 
to cut hay and make a stack as added provision 
against bad weather. These things, together with 
all the camp equipment to be carried, would 

33 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

make a load of not far from three thousand 
pounds for the animals. 

To this load I suggested that it would be a good 
idea to add some interesting books to read at 
night, and I told him that I purposed to subscribe 
for some weekly papers which would give the 
news of current events. 

Wild Bill's skill in plains travel was evident in 
many things about the outfit we had bought. He 
had fastened straps on the outside of the wagon- 
box to carry the tent-pole, tripod, and stovepipe, 
and on the opposite side to hold the axe, pick, and 
shovel, so that when needed on the road or in 
camp the tools would be at hand. 

On the plains one must be prepared to encounter 
strong winds at any and all times, and often vio- 
lent storms, and on this account we commended 
Bill's judgment in having selected a Sibley in- 
stead of a wall tent; for the Sibley is in many 
respects a most serviceable tent. 

It is conical in shape, like the Indian lodge, 
but in other respects it is far superior to the red 
man's habitation. It requires but a single short 
pole which rests on an iron tripod, by pushing 
together or spreading apart the feet of which 
the canvas is easily stretched tight or slackened. 
The aperture at the top for the escape of smoke is 
provided with a canvas cap which can be shifted 
so as to keep its back to the wind, thus insuring 
a clear exit for the smoke. Two opposite doors 

34 



BACK TO THE BUFFALO RANGE 

secure at least one entrance and exit away from 
the wind. Its advantages over the wall-tent for 
withstanding stormy weather and for comfort 
and convenience are generally admitted by all 
old campers. 

The inventor of this most excellent tent was a 
private soldier in the Second Dragoons, whom I 















1 

5 




'iM 


m: 


X 


/ 


s 

1 


V / / 


ml 


1 


&\ 


"J iff 


IV V \ \ ' 


l/^ 






JL/ 1 


m 


Sv^ 






Sibleif Tent 





often saw at Fort Bridger, Utah, in '58, but whose 
name I have forgotten. 

The next day we drove down-town and bought 
our supplies and on returning to camp loaded 
the wagon for the trip to the plains, as Tom di- 
rected. 

**Put the heaviest truck, such as the sacks of 
corn and flour, in the bottom an' well toward the 
forward end," said he, "an' such things as the 
mess box an' stove — that we'll be using a good 
deal on the road — in the hind end, where they'll be 

35 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

handy to git out of the wagon. The tent an' our 
bundles of bedding can go on top. The camp- 
stools, buckets, an' camp-kettles can be tied on 
outside. An', mind you, everything must be 
stowed away snug or we won't be able to get our 
truck all on the wagon." 

Stripping the wagon-sheets off the bows, we 
packed the wagon to the best advantage, leaving 
at the hind end a vacant space to receive the mess- 
chest and stove. Replacing the sheets, we tied 
them down snugly to the wagon-box, all around, 
to be prepared for rainy weather. 

Tom, who once had served as hospital steward, 
had learned something of the use of medicines, 
and during our stay in Leavenworth he fitted up 
a small medicine-chest and stocked it with such 
remedies as he knew how to use, to be prepared 
for emergencies. 

"You may not need 'em very often," he re- 
marked; "you may never need 'em; but, as Wild 
Bill says of his pistols, when you do need 'em 
you'll need 'em bad." 

As we were to pull out in the morning. Wild 
Bill rode out to our camp that evening to take 
supper with us. The evening was pleasantly 
passed with music from Jack's fiddle, singing by all 
hands, and wound up by a jig danced by Wild 
Bill which astonished and delighted us all. 

As Wild Bill was mounting his horse to return 
to town, Tom took the precaution to chain the 

36 



BACK TO THE BUFFALO RANGE 

dog, Found, to a wheel of the wagon, to prevent 
him from following his master. 

Our commander, old Tom, had given orders for 
an early start next morning, and before daylight 
his call, *'Turn out, men!" routed us out of our 
blankets. Tom got breakfast, while Jack and I 
fed the team and then groomed and harnessed 
them while they ate. 

We intended to feed them well on grain as long 
as we were in the settlements, where it was plenty 
and cheap; but after getting beyond Council 
Grove there would be no more settlements, and 
consequently no grain to be bought along the 
road, and, as the grain we were hauling would 
be needed later to carry our animals through the 
cold of winter, they would have to depend on the 
grass after leaving the settlements. 

Daylight was upon us when we had finished 
eating, and, all hands turning to, the dishes were 
soon washed and packed away, the wagon loaded, 
the team hitched up, the fire put out, and we were 
ofF. 

Our team was fat, frisky, and well rested, and 
walked away with its load with ease; but, fol- 
lowing our soldier training in starting out for a 
long trip, we made short, easy drives for the first 
few days, gradually increasing them till we reached 
the maximum — about twenty-five miles a day. 

Shortly after leaving Leavenworth we met our 
old friends the bull-whackers, with whom we had 

37 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

made the first part of our trip on starting from 
Fort Wise. They were just getting in with their 
train, as dirty and jolly as ever. We were grati- 
fied to realize that we had gained so much time 
and avoided so much dirt by transferring to the 
mule train at the Santa Fe crossing of the Ar- 
kansas River. 

Later we met more bull trains and other freight- 
ing outfits coming in but found few going west. 
At this season most people were inclined to seek 
the friendly shelter and comforts of the settle- 
ments rather than to brave the inclemencies and 
dangers of the bleak plains. 

Among the travellers whom we met coming in 
was an occasional outfit of "busted Pike's Peak- 
ers/' as unfortunate and discouraged miners re- 
turning from the Pike's Peak gold region were 
called. Most of these gave doleful accounts of 
life and prospects in the Colorado mines. 

For a few days after leaving Leavenworth we 
kept the dog. Found, tied up, lest he should go 
back to his master; but we were all kind to him, 
and he showed no inclination to quit our company, 
and when we turned him loose again he con- 
tentedly remained with our outfit. 

We found the roads fine and the weather real 
Indian summer; days hazy, warm, and pleasant, 
nights cool, and mornings frosty, as is usual on 
the plains at this the most pleasant time of the 
year. 

38 



BACK TO THE BUFFALO RANGE 

While in the settlements we indulged in such 
luxuries as milk, butter, eggs, and so forth, when- 
ever they were to be bought, and we killed plenty 
of prairie-chickens with our shotgun. 

These prairie-chickens were very numerous in 
the Kansas settlements, occurring in such multi- 
tudes that they were pests to the farmers, eating 
great quantities of grain. They haunted the set- 
tled country or grain-producing parts but were 
seldom found far out on the plains, though while 
in the service I saw a few as far west as the Big 
Bend of the Arkansas. 

In the army the Sibley tent was calculated to 
hold twelve to sixteen men — crowded pretty close 
together — but in our Sibley, with only the three 
occupants, there was room for stove, mess-chest, 
camp-stools, or anything else we might bring 
inside. Found always made his bed under the 
wagon, where he could keep watch over the ani- 
mals and act as general camp guard. 

In order to favor our team we made two drives 
a day, stopping for an hour or so at noon to turn 
the animals out on the grass, while we made cof- 
fee and ate some cold meat and bread. On our 
afternoon drive, as night approached, we selected 
a convenient place and camped, turning out the 
team — except the flea-bitten gray mare, which 
we always picketed as an anchor to the rest. 
After supper, sprawled on our beds in the tent, 
we talked and spun yarns. 

39 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

Tom having served three enlistments — fifteen 
years — and Jack two, while I had only five years' 
service as a soldier to my credit, I was considered 
a raw recruit and usually listened while they 
talked. When in a musical mood. Jack got out 
his fiddle and played and sang. 

We seldom lit a candle at night, for we had 
only one box of candles and knew that before 
us were many long winter evenings when lights 
would be more needed than now. We had found, 
rolled up in the tent, an infantry bayonet — the 
best kind of a camp candlestick. When we had 
occasion to light a candle we appreciated its 
convenience. 

Since we first came from the plains into the 
Kansas settlements we had heard much said about 
jayhawkers. The term jayhawking as used then 
was a modified expression for theft or robbery, 
but was applied more particularly to the depre- 
dations of gangs of armed and mounted ruffians, 
who, taking advantage of the turbulent condition 
of affairs resulting from the war — the civil law 
being impotent or altogether lacking in many 
parts of the scattering settlements of Kansas — 
roamed at will through the country, hovering es- 
pecially along main thoroughfares and helping 
themselves to other people's property. Some- 
times they professed to be volunteer soldiers or 
government agents sent out to gather in good 
horses, mules, or other property for the use of 

40 



BACK TO THE BUFFALO RANGE 

Uncle Sam, giving bogus receipts for what they 
took and saying that these receipts would be 
honored and paid on their presentation to any 
government quartermaster — which, of course, was 
pure fiction. 

Where they failed to get what they wanted by 
other methods they did not hesitate to use vio- 
lence, even to killing those who resisted their 
demands. 

Such were the Kansas jayhawkers of those 
times, whom we had hoped to escape meeting; 
but we had talked much of the possibilities and 
probabilities of such an encounter and had de- 
cided on certain plans of action to frustrate the 
probable movements of any jayhawkers whom we 
might meet. We did not propose to be robbed 
and stood ready to put up a strong bluff and, if 
necessary, to fight to defend our property. In 
view of a possible fight, arms were to be kept in 
order and ammunition handy. 

We had nearly reached Council Grove without 
encountering any jayhawkers and had begun to 
flatter ourselves that we were going to slip through 
the settlements without having trouble with them. 
At one or two places along the road, however, we 
had heard that a party of jayhawkers had lately 
been seen on the route ahead of us, and we had 
been cautioned to look out for them. 



41 



CHAPTER V 
WE MEET DOUBTFUL CHARACTERS 

/^NE day, on stopping at a store to buy some 
^^ feed, just before reaching the crossing of a 
timbered creek, we noticed two saddled horses 
hitched to the fence and on entering the store 
found two well-armed, rough-looking fellows loung- 
ing about, one of whom seemed to be half tipsy. 
The store was also a post-office and presided over 
by a very old man. 

While Tom and the storekeeper retired to a 
back room to measure out some grain, the two 
ruffians began to manifest considerable interest 
in our affairs, asking many questions, to all of 
which Jack and I, who had left the team stand- 
ing in the road and walked up to the store, gave 
rather curt answers. 

Apparently not satisfied with our replies, the 
drunken fellow staggered out toward our team, 
remarking to his more sober companion: 

"Joe, let's take a look at their outfit." 

We paid little apparent attention to them but 
quietly watched every movement they made, for 
we began to suspect that these were some of the 
robbers we had heard of. 

Each of the men carried a pair of revolvers hung 

42 



WE MEET DOUBTFUL CHARACTERS 

to his belt. The most drunken one was a large, 
swearing, swaggering ruffian who was addressed 
by the other as **Cap." The one named "Joe" 
was smaller and apparently more sober and wore 
an old cavalry jacket. 

As they walked around the team we heard an 
ominous growl from our dog, Found. The big 
fellow stepped back and laid a hand on the butt 
of one of his pistols, and Jack quickly grasped the 
handle of his own weapon and took a step or 
two in the direction of the drunken ruffian, keeping 
his eyes on the fellow's pistol hand. "Cap" saw 
the movement and turned toward Jack, still with 
his hand on his pistol, and remarked with an oath : 

"Mister, ef that dog tries to bite me he dies." 

"Then there'll be two dogs die," returned Jack 
quietly, looking the fellow in the eye. 

I kept a close watch of the motions of Joe, but 
he made no threatening gestures and seemed 
waiting to see what his leader would do. 

"What do you mean, sir?" demanded the 
drunken blusterer of Jack. 

"I mean," replied the Irishman quietly, "that 
if you keep away from that team and attend to 
your own business the dog'll not hurt you; but you 
draw a gun to shoot him, an' — ^well, you heard my 
remark." 

Instead of resenting Jack's ultimatum, the big 
fellow turned to his henchman and said: 

"Joe, these men don't appear to have heard of 

43 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

me. Tell *em who I am/' and then disappeared 
into the store. 

Joe stepped up to Jack and said in a confiden- 
tial way: 

"Pardner, youVe made a big mistake to talk 
so insulting to that man, an' Fm afraid you'll 
have trouble about it. That's Captain Tucker, 
one o' the worst men in Kansas. I reckon he's 
killed more men than I've got fingers an' toes. 
Best thing you can do now, is to foller him into 
the store an' call for the drinks, apologize, like a 
man, an' make it all up with him, fur he's turrible 
when he's riled, specially when he's drinkin'." 

**Is that so.?" exclaimed Jack. "Why, he's a 
bad one, ain't he? I'm right glad to know him." 

"More'n that," added Joe, *'he's captain of our 
company, an' we're the toughest lot that ever 
struck this country." 

^'Where's your company, and how many of 
you is they.?" asked Jack. 

'*0h, they's a whole lot of us, an' we're camped 
down on the crick a couple o' miles from here," 
was Joe's evasive reply. 

I began to get uneasy. What if Jack's rashness 
should bring this gang of desperadoes down on us? 
Jack was game and would not back down from the 
stand he had taken. I knew that Tom — who was 
still in the store getting his sack of grain and knew 
nothing of the trouble we were about to get into 
— was game, too, and would stand by the Irish- 

44 



WE MEET DOUBTFUL CHARACTERS 

man; and if it came to a fight I could at least 
handle cartridges for them. But what could three 
of us do against a gang of unknown numbers of 
these lawless men? 

"Jack, haven't you been a little too brash? 
You may get us into a scrape if he brings up his 
men. 

**Ef there's none of 'em more dangerous than 
their captain there's nothin' to fear. I've studied 
such fellows all my life, an' I never made a mis- 
take in one of his sort. He's just such another 
blowhard as that *bad man from Texas' that I 
swatted in Leavenworth. An' on the principle of 
*Hke master, Hke man,' you'll be apt to find that 
this big company of desperadoes, if we ever meet 
'em, will dwindle down to six or eight windy ruf- 
fians like their captain. I beheve the three of 
us could whip twenty of 'em. Such fellers don't 
fight unless they can get the drop, an' we'll see 
that they don't do that." 

Just as we reached the store door I turned to 
see what had become of Joe, and noticed him still 
standing where we had left him — as near the mules 
as Found would let him come — intently engaged 
in writing or drawing something with a pencil on 
a piece of paper. The paper he held in his hand 
looked like a yellow envelope, and, nudging Jack, 
I pointed to him. 

Joe seemed to be deeply interested in his work, 
looking first at the mules and then at his yellow 

45 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

envelope as he marked on it, and did not notice 
us. I was still wondering what he could be doing 
when the Irishman's quick wit comprehended the 
situation, and he whispered : 

"He's copyin' the brands on our mules. We'll 
hear more of this by an' by." 

"How?" I asked. 

"He'll send somebody to claim 'em, on a lost- 
strayed-or-stolen plea, an' the claimer will prove 
ownership by showing the exact brands marked 
on paper before he has been near the mules. I've 
known that trick played before." 

As we entered the store the old storekeeper and 
Tom came out of the grain room — Tom with a 
sack of corn on his shoulder, making mysterious 
winks at us as he moved toward the door, indi- 
cating that he desired us to go back to the wagon. 

The store man cast an inquiring glance at the 
decanter and then at Captain Tucker. The lat- 
ter nodded his head and said: 

"Chalk it down." 

On the way to the wagon we met Joe, who had 
probably completed draughting our mules' brands 
to his satisfaction. 

We told Tom of all that had occurred, and I 
rather expected that he would reprimand Jack for 
acting so rashly, but to my surprise he approved 
of the Irishman's doings. 

"Perfectly right, perfectly right," said Tom. 
"It won't do to give back to such fellows a par- 

46 



WE MEET DOUBTFUL CHARACTERS 

tide. If we've got to have a brush with them, 
right now an' here's as good a time an' place as 
any. We must bluff 'em ofF right at the start 
or fight. But we mus'n't forget the old sayin', 
* Never despise your enemy'; he may turn out a 
better fighter than you give him credit for bein'. 
We must watch every move they make an' be 
prepared to bluflP 'em off at every trick they try. 
Jack was right in suspecting that that fellow with 
the cavalry jacket was copying the brands on our 
mules. They'll be after trying to prove 'em away 
from us, ef they can't blufF us." 

"Did you find out anything about them from 
the storekeeper?" I asked anxiously. "You were 
in that back room so long I thought you must be 
pumping him." 

"Yes, I wasn't idle," replied Tom, "an' I found 
out a whole lot. At first the old man was afraid 
to talk, for he's scared of these fellers, but when I 
promised him that we would not get him into 
trouble he let out an' told me all he knows about 
'em. 

"This is the gang we heard about at Burlin- 
game and again at A-Hundred-an'-Ten-Mile 
Creek," continued Tom. "They came to this 
neighborhood about a week ago an' have been 
robbin' and plunderin', an' everybody's afraid of 
'em. The old storekeeper says that there are so 
few able-bodied men left here — most all of 'em hav- 
ing gone off to the war — that the few citizens left 

47 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

can't well make any organized opposition to 'em. 
This lot is an offshoot from Cleveland's gang of 
jayhawkers that we heard about at Leavenworth. 
It seems, the old fellow says, that this Captain 
Tucker was a lieutenant under Cleveland, an' 
they couldn't agree — each one wanted to be boss 
— so Tucker with a few followers split off from 
Cleveland an' started a gang of his own." 

*'Well, but did you find out how many there 
are in this gang?" I asked. 

"Yes. The old man says that they try to make 
people believe that there is a big company, but 
from the best information he can get there are 
only seven or eight." 

*'What did I tell you.^" said Jack contemptu- 
ously. "Ef they're no better than these two 
we're good for that many, easy." 

"Yes," said Tom, "ef we don't let 'em get the 
drop on us I think we can stand 'em oflF; but we 
may find 'em a tougher lot than we take 'em for — 
ef they tackle us for a fight we've just got to 
clean 'em out, it's a ground-hog case. An' as to 
killin' 'em, I'd have no more hesitation about it 
than I would to kill a hostile Injun. Ef we have 
to open fire on 'em I want you men to shoot to 
kill, an' I'll do the same. These jayhawkers have 
been declared outlaws by orders from the com- 
mander of the department, an' the troops are 
turned loose to hunt 'em down, kill 'em, or break 
up the gangs wherever they can be found. 

48 



WE MEET DOUBTFUL CHARACTERS 

"The old storekeeper says theyVe just taken 
possession of his store," he continued, "helpin' 
themselves to his Hquor or anything else they 
want, telHn' him to * chalk it down' an' by an' by 
they'll settle with him. 

"A boy from the neighborhood who had been 
down to their camp to sell 'em some butter told 
the old man that there was only seven men of 
'em an' they had a tent an' a two-horse wagon. 
The boy said they had lots of good horses, an' 
the old man thinks they gather in all the good 
horses an' mules they can find in the country an' 
now an' then send a lot of 'em in to Leavenworth 
an' sell 'em to the contractors there who are 
buyin' up horses an' mules for the government. 

"Whatever happens," continued Tom, "we 
must be careful not to compromise this old store- 
keeper an' his family, for he's very much afraid 
of these jayhawkers an' cautioned me several 
times not to let them get a suspicion that he had 
told us anything about them. 

"I put an idea in his head, though, which may 
be the means of ridding this neighborhood of these 
rascals. I told him to write a letter to General 
Hunter, in command of the department at Fort 
Leavenworth, tellin' him the situation out here, 
an' to request the general to send out a company 
of cavalry to clean out this gang an' give protec- 
tion to the farmers an' people travelling the road. 

"He jumped at the idea an' said he would 

49 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

write the letter right away an' send it in by the 
mail which will go past this afternoon. I think 
the general will send the troops immediately, for 
he is makin' war on these bushwhackers wherever 
he can hear of them. If the scheme is carried out 
right the soldiers will be apt to kill or capture 
this whole gang. Td like to stay an' help 'em at 
it, but it will take four or five days, at least, 
before the soldiers can get here. Ef this gang 
undertakes to make war on us we may have to 
teach 'em a lesson on our own hook." 

**Well, Tom," I asked, "what are your plans 
for meeting this emergency if you think these fel- 
lows are going to give us trouble?" 

Before he could answer me the two jayhawk- 
ers came out of the store and, without making 
any hostile demonstrations, went to their horses, 
mounted, and rode a Httle way back down the 
road we had come, and then, turning across the 
prairie struck for the timber farther down the 
creek. They eyed us in passing but said not a 
word. As they rode past us we noticed that 
both were mounted on good-looking animals, es- 
pecially Tucker, whose mount was a splendid, 
large black horse of fine proportions and good 
movement. 



50 



CHAPTER VI 
STANDING OFF THE JAYHAWKERS 

TT rHILE Jack and I stowed away the sack of 
^^ corn and waited for Tom's reply to my 
question, he stood watching the disappearing rid- 
ers till an intervening rise of ground hid them 
and then began to unfold his plans. 

"It's earHer in the day than we generally camp," 
said Tom thoughtfully, "but under the circum- 
stances we must select a camp not far from here 
an' hang up till we see what they're going to do. 
Ef we try to go on farther they'll think we're 
running from 'em. We must camp in open 
ground where they can't get in shooting distance 
of us without showing themselves in open prairie. 

"I asked the storekeeper about the lay of the 
land on the other side of the creek, an' he told 
me of a good place to camp about a half mile 
beyond the ford, where there's an abandoned 
house out in the prairie an' a good well. The 
family who owned the place got scared out and 
moved into Topeka to stay till times get better. 
There's where we'll camp; so let's get there an' 
get prepared for action in case this outfit gives 
us a call. They won't let us go by without trying 
some bluff game on us an' maybe a fight. 

51 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

**I don't think there's any need of it here," 
added Tom as he looked toward the timber at the 
crossing of the creek ahead of us, "but, to be on 
the safe side, while I drive the team. Jack, you 
an' Peck may take your guns and form a skirmish 
line ahead of me as we go through the timber." 

We did so, but, finding no sign of an enemy, as 
we again came out on the prairie we joined the 
wagon and rode up to the abandoned house and 
camped in a good, defensible position. There was 
no grass close to the house whereon to picket our 
team, but some hay that had been left in the 
barn made a good substitute. 

Finding the inside of the house littered with 
waste and rubbish left by the recent occupants, 
we pitched our tent near the wagon, as usual, 
camping by the house merely to secure a defen- 
sible location in open ground with wood and 
water convenient. 

We were confident that we would receive a call 
from the jayhawkers and hurried our dinner, 
keeping an anxious lookout back along the road 
toward the store, which was now hidden from us 
by the timber. 

After we had cleared away the dishes Tom or- 
dered: 

"Now, men, see that everything is prepared 
for action. See that all arms are in good work- 
ing order, an' have a good supply of ca'tridges 
handy." 

52 



STANDING OFF THE JAYHAWKERS 

Such orders were hardly necessary, for we made 
it a rule at all times to keep our arms in good 
shape and cartridges convenient. 

*'Here they come!'* exclaimed Jack in great 
glee, and, looking toward the store, we could see 
a party of mounted men just coming out of the 
timber at the creek crossing. As soon as the an- 
nouncement was made Tom brought the field- 
glass to bear on them and began counting: 

"One, two, three, four, five, six, seven — all 
told." Then he added: "They would likely leave 
only one man back to take care of camp; so eight 
is about the full strength of the gang, just as we 
heard." 

Passing the glass to me, he added: 

"As soon as they get in hailing distance I'll 
halt 'em, an' you men will be ready to enforce my 
commands. Ef they don't halt at the first com- 
mand I'll halt 'em again, an' maybe the third 
time, but not more. An' when I give the com- 
mand, 'Fire!' remember your old training — aim 
about the saddles an' let em' have it, an' don't 
waste your ca'tridges. Let each one of us try to 
see how many saddles he can empty." 

To me this sounded serious, but the veteran 
was as cool about it as if giving instructions to a 
squad of soldiers on skirmish drill. Jack always 
seemed happy when there was a good prospect of 
a fight before him. I must admit that I began to 
feel a little squeamish as the jayhawkers drew near 

53 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

us, but I was somewhat reassured by the firm and 
fearless demeanor of my comrades. 

As the jayhawkers approached it was seen that 
all except the leader, "Cap" Tucker, carried 
rifles, carbines, or shotguns in addition to their 
pistols. All seemed to be well mounted, but 
Tucker was particularly conspicuous by his fine 
black horse. They followed the main road till 
opposite the house where we were and then 
turned and rode toward us at a walk. 

As soon as they had approached within easy 
hail Tom took a few steps toward them and, 
bringing his Sharp's rifle to a ready, sung out: 

''Halt!'' 

Jack and I moved up in his rear and came to 
the same position. 

The jayhawkers did not seem to be expecting 
such a manoeuvre on our part and did not promptly 
obey Tom's first command; but by the time he 
had repeated ''Halt!'' in a louder tone they took 
the hint, and Tucker quickly ordered his men to 
stop. Turning to us, he called out in a tone of 
indignant surprise: 

''What do you mean?" 

''Just what I say," replied Tom. "Ef you men 
have any business with us, one of you — and only 
one — can advance an' make it known. The rest'll 
stand where they are." 

Turning and speaking a few words to his men. 
Tucker then rode up to us. 

54 



STANDING OFF THE JAYHAWKERS 

As the big captain halted a few feet from us he 
demanded angrily: 

"What do you men mean by drawing your guns 
on us an' halting us this way?*' 

"In these doubtful times/' replied Tom, "we 
don't propose to allow a party of armed men to 
enter our camp without first finding out who they 
are an' what's their business with us. Will you 
please tell us what yours is?" 

"Why, certainly," returned the big ruffian. 
"We are free rangers looking up stray an' stolen 
stock an' also gathering in good bosses an' mules 
fer the government. Have you any objections to 
that?" 

"Not in the least," said Tom, "but we have no 
stray or stolen stock an' no horses or mules for 
sale, an' I don't see as you have any further busi- 
ness with this outfit." 

"The reason why we've made this call on you 
is this," answered Tucker. "A short time ago one 
of my men had a fine pair of mules stole from him 
an' trailed 'em down nigh to Leavenworth where 
he lost track of 'em. I learned from the old store- 
keeper over the crick yonder that you men had 
lately bought your mules in Leavenworth, an' 
when I went back to camp an' mentioned this 
matter to Bill Sawyer he got to thinkin' about 
it, an' he thought that possibly you might of 
bought his mules without knowin' they was stole; 
an' so I jes' brung him an' a few more of the boys 
over to look at your mules." 

55 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

While the captain was making his little speech 
Jack gave me an occasional wink, which seemed to 
say: "Listen to what's comin'." 

**Now, pardner," continued the jayhawker, **we 
ain't in the habit of spending much time arguing 
about a matter of this kind, an', as I tol' you be- 
fore, we're a-gatherin' up mules an' bosses fer the 
government, an' whenever we find any that suits 
we just take 'em, givin' an order on Uncle Sam, 
an' he foots the bill. But to show you that we're 
dealing on the square with you men about these 
mules, ef they ain't ours we don't want 'em. Now, 
I'll make you a fair proposition. The man that 
lost the mules I'm talking about is out yonder, an' 
he's never seen your mules yet. He's got the 
brands marked down on a piece of paper. Now, 
ef you're honorable men an' willing to do what's 
right I don't see how you can help accepting my 
proposition, which is this: I'll call Bill Sawyer 
up here an' let him show his brands as they're 
marked down on that paper afore he's ever had a 
chance to see the brands on your mules, an' ef the 
brands he's got marked down is the same as wh it's 
on them mules, why, it's a plain case that they 
must be his mules. Now, what do you say to 
that?" 

Tom gave no sign that he was "onto their 
game," but merely said: 

"Call your man up, but only him — no more." 

Tucker rode out a few steps toward his gang 
and called: 

S6 



STANDING OFF THE JAYHAWKERS 

"Bill Sawyer, come here!" and then returned to 
us, while William Sawyer, who seemed to have 
been rehearsed in his part, came trotting up with 
alacrity, feeling in his inside pocket for the paper 
that he seemed to know — although he had been 
out of hearing distance of us — was to be called 
for at this stage of the game. As Sawyer left 
his chums they all gathered about Joe — he of the 
old cavalry jacket — and seemed to be holding 
an earnest consultation. 

As Sawyer reached us I had time to notice that 
he wore a green patch over his left eye — or the 
place where the eye had been; a villainous grin 
added devilishness to his sinister countenance. 
In his hand he held the same old yellow envelope 
that Jack and I had seen Joe using to copy the 
mules' brands on. 

Taking the old envelope triumphantly from his 
man. Tucker passed it to Tom with a confident 
air as he demanded. 

**Now, let's compare the brands marked on that 
paper with the brands on them mules.'' And 
he turned his horse as if to ride around on the 
other side of our wagon, where the mules were 
tied. 

'*'Twon't be necessary — ^wait a minute," re- 
turned Tom as he passed the old envelope to Jack 
and me with the query: "Do you men recognize 
that paper?" 

"Yes, we've seen it before," we both answered. 

57 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

**What do you mean?" demanded Tucker in as- 
sumed astonishment. 

"Just this," repHed Tom, looking sternly at the 
jayhawkers' captain. "This little joke of your'n 
has gone about far enough. These two men," 
pointing to Jack and me, "stood an' watched that 
feller you call Joe — that sneaking coyote out 
yonder who wears the old cavalry jacket — take 
this or yellow envelope out of his pocket an' copy 
on it the brands of our mules while the team was 
standin' in front of the store, when Joe had no 
idea he was bein' watched. Now, I don't want 
to hear any more of this foolishness. Mr. Jay- 
hawker, ef you've any other business with us 
please state it. Ef not this meeting stands ad- 
journed." 

Seeing that his deception was detected and that 
the scheme failed. Tucker apparently concluded 
to try a bluff on us. 

"If you won't listen to reason," said he, "we'll 
show you what we can do in another line. I'm 
satisfied that them's Sawyer's mules an' we're 
going to have 'em. It'll leave you fellows in a 
bad fix to break up your team by taking the mules, 
but I'm willin' to do what's right. You give the 
mules up peaceably and I've got a pair of good, 
old chunky ponies down to camp that I'll sell you 
cheap. You may have 'em fer a hundred dollars. 
I'll just call the boys up an' we'll take the mules 
along with us now, an' " 

58 



STANDING OFF THE JAYHAWKERS 

**0h, no you won't," interrupted Tom in a 
quiet but firm tone as he began fingering the lock 
of his rifle. 

"Why, pardner," exclaimed Tucker in appar- 
ent astonishment, "you don't mean to say you'd 
be so foolish as to compel us to use force? I've 
got some forty odd men over to camp. Ef you 
don't give up them mules peaceably I'll go an' 
bring the whole company, an' then — well, you'll 
have to pay fer the trouble you've put us to, in 
course." 

A smile of contempt spread over Tom's visage 
as he replied: 

"Trot out your company an' try to take them 
mules an' we'll show you what we'll do for you." 

Jack and I were keenly alive to all that was 
going on and, while watching the five ruffians out 
on the prairie, were prepared to meet any threat- 
ening move any of them might make. 

Being out of hearing of the argument, the squad 
on the prairie seemed to be growing restless. 
One of them called out to Tucker as though solicit- 
ing an order to charge on us: 

^^ Cap, dont you want us up there to settle that 
matter ? Ef you do, jes^ say the zvordi*' 

Tucker hesitated before answering and looked 
about our camp as though calculating the chances. 
The notion — if he entertained it — was quickly dis- 
pelled by Tom, who growled out: 

"You give 'em the order to advance an' it'll be 

59 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

the last one you'll ever give. We've got the dead- 
wood on you two fellers an' we'll give a good ac- 
count of them others, too, ef they attempt to come 
on." 

Tucker acknowledged the situation by shout- 
ing to his men in the offing: 

*' No! No! Stay where you areT^ Then, turn- 
ing to Tom, he continued: "Now, pardner, I've 
got one more last proposition to make you, to 
save you trouble, an' that is this: We'll take them 
mules over to our camp an' " 

''That'll do," interrupted Tom. "I've heard 
enough of that. You'll never take them mules to 
your camp, or anywhere else, while I'm ahve. 
You know that neither you nor this other feller 
has any more right to them mules than I have to 
the horses you're ridin'. I don't want to hear any 
more of your nonsense. The best thing you two 
can do is to git away from here. If I see one of 
you in range of our rifles again he's liable to git a 
hole in his hide. Five minutes to get out of 
range! Now, git!" 

Tucker turned his horse and, calling, "Come on. 
Bill," they started to join their waiting comrades. 
After a few steps the captain turned in his saddle 
and, with a threatening nod to Tom, said: "I'll see 
you later." 

"Ef you do it won't be good for you," retorted 
Tom. 

Tucker and Sawyer joined the others, and with- 

60 




''Five minutes to get out of range! Now, git! 



STANDING OFF THE JAYHAWKERS 

out further demonstration they moved off sul- 
lenly back along the road toward the store and 
soon disappeared in the timber. 

"They ain't done with us yet," said Tom mus- 
ingly. "'Tain't likely that they'll make an open 
attack on us while we're in this camp because 
they can't well get the drop on us here. The 
most natural thing would be fer 'em to slip past 
us to-night, or go 'round an' get ahead of us, an' 
lay for us in the timber at the crossing of some 
creek on the road ahead. I think that one of 
you men might as well slip over into the timber 
yonder, near the store, an' by keeping out of sight 
an' watchin' them you may be able to guess what 
they're going to do. They'll be certain to stop 
awhile at the store an' fire up on the ol' man's 
whiskey, an' then's the time they'll be apt to be 
careless about talking their plans over, an' after 
they've settled on what they intend to do they'll 
go on to camp to get their suppers. After they 
go on to camp, ef you'd slip into the store an' 
have a talk with the old man maybe he could tell 
you what they're up to." 

"That's just to my notion, Tom," said Jack. 
"I was just a-thinkin' of goin' on a little spying 
expedition after them fellers. I think I can find 
out what their game is, an' by all that's good an' 
bad, I'll not come back till I do." 

So saying, taking his revolvers and shotgun, 
Jack struck out down a ravine that led to the 

6i 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

creek and was soon out of sight, while Tom and I 
busied ourselves attending to the stock and other 
camp duties. 



62 



CHAPTER VII 
JACK TAKES A PRISONER 

TACK had been gone a couple of hours and it 
^ had become quite dark, when our dog Found, 
by growHng, pricking up his ears, and looking to- 
ward the road, gave notice that some one was ap- 
proaching. 

On listening closely we could hear some one 
coming, but the tramping sounded like that of a 
horse. We had made no light after dark, for we 
did not intend to cook any supper and our experi- 
ence in the Indian country had taught us to dis- 
pense with lights when in the vicinity of an enemy. 

As soon as we were assured that the coming par- 
ty, whoever they were, were making for our camp, 
Tom whispered: "Get your gun an' follow me." 
With that he took his rifle and, advancing stealthily 
for several paces toward the approaching persons — 
whose voices we could hear — he squatted down in 
a patch of weeds on the path leading to the road 
while I followed and did the same. We had 
chained the dog to a wheel of the wagon lest he 
should rush on the newcomers before we could 
find out who they were. 

We had scarcely got settled in the position we 

63 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

had taken when we discerned two dark bodies 
nearing us that seemed to be a man on foot and, 
just behind him, a mounted man. 

Letting them come on till they were within a 
few feet of the muzzles of our rifles, Tom's voice 
suddenly rang out: 

^'Halt! Who comes there?** 

We could now see plainly that there were but 
two persons, a footman and a mounted man, and 
heard a prompt response from the horseman, in 
the unmistakable voice of our Irishman, as they 
both suddenly stopped. 

"Jack, with a prisoner!" This sounded agree- 
able but mystifying, but the speaker enHghtened 
us by adding: **rve captured Tucker, the jay- 
hawker, and his horse." 

We all moved back to our tent and struck a 
light to take a look at Jack's captures and hear 
his explanation. But the Irishman declined to 
talk in the presence of his prisoner more than to 
answer a few commonplace questions. 

By the light of the candle we saw Jack had tied 
the prisoner's arms together at the elbows, behind 
his back, with the end of the jayhawker's lariat, 
while with the other end securely fastened to the 
horn of his saddle he had been driving the fellow 
before him. 

The desperado seemed now very crestfallen 
and by no means pugnacious and had nothing to 
say. 

64 



JACK TAKES A PRISONER 

"What are you going to do with him, Jack?" I 
asked in hearing of the captive. 

*'0h, make a 'spread eagle' of him on a hind 
wheel of the wagon till mornin', I suppose, an' 
then take him down to the timber an' hang him 
an' be done with him," he replied as he began to 
put the first part of this programme into execu- 
tion. 

The "spread eagle" is made by requiring the 
prisoner to stand with his back against a hind 
wheel of a wagon; his arms are then stretched out 
on each side and tied by the wrists to the upper 
rim of the wheel, while his ankles, with feet spread 
apart, are tied in like manner to the bottom of the 
wheel. The prisoner can ease himself a little by 
sitting on the hub of the wheel, but this affords 
an insecure and uncomfortable seat. 

As soon as we had securely spread the big 
jayhawker on the wheel. Jack left me to watch 
him, with a caution to see that he did not work 
himself loose, while he unsaddled and picketed 
out the fine black horse he had captured. When 
this was accomplished he called Tom and me off to 
one side, far enough to be out of hearing of the 
prisoner, taking the precaution to place the light 
near the open tent door where it would shine on 
our "spread eagle," so that we could see if he 
made any effort to free himself, and then Jack 
gave us a detailed account of his trip. 

"When I got to a place in the timber where I 

65 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

could see the store, I saw that the jay hawkers' 
horses was all hitched to the fence an' I knew they 
was inside. Pretty soon they all comes out an' 
mounts, an' all except this man Tucker struck out 
toward their camp. After seein' them off. Tucker 
mounted an' struck off in a different direction, up 
the creek like. I couldn't make out what he was 
up to, but I thought I would go in an' have a chat 
with the storekeeper as soon as the coast was 
clear. I went in an' had quite a talk with the ol' 
man, an', sure enough, he had heard enough of 
their talk to make sure that their plan was about 
what Tom had guessed it would be. They would 
go back to their camp an' wait till after midnight, 
an' then mount an' take a circuit 'round our 
camp, pass, an' git ahead of us, an' lay for us in 
the timber at the crossing of the next creek, which 
the old man says is only a mile and a half from 
here. Tucker had concluded that while he sent 
his men back to camp he would ride over the 
route they intended to take an' look at the lay 
of the land so as to be able to place his men to 
the best advantage to get the drop on us. 

**In going to the place he had kept up the creek 
for a piece an' then circled 'round across the 
prairie to the little creek so's not to be seen or 
heard by any of us here; but in comin' back he 
had followed the main road, 'cause he knew it 
was too dark by that time for any of us to tell 
who he was as he passed along the road. 

66 



JACK TAKES A PRISONER 

**I was just comin' out of the timber, after 
crossin' the creek this side of the store, on my way 
back to camp, when I spied him a-comin' down 
the hill toward me at a walk, an' I squatted down 
so's to get him 'tween me an' the sky, to get a 
better view of him, to make sure it was him; an' 
then I made up my mind to take him in right 
there. 

*'So I got back behind a tree right beside the 
road, an' when he got nearly to me I stepped out 
with both barrels cocked an' called out to him to 
halt. He pulled up, sudden like, with a jerk, an' 
asked: 'What's up? What's up?' 

"'Don't you make a motion toward your pis- 
tols,' says I, 'or I'll put two big loads of buckshot 
into you.' I wasn't more'n six feet from him, an' 
he must have seen that he had no show to get 
away or draw a gun. 'Now,' says I, 'do just as I 
order you, an' don't you try any foolishness, or 
I'll fill you full of lead. First thing,' says I, 'un- 
buckle that belt an' drop belt an' pistols in the 
road.' He did so, at the same time saying: 
'Pardner, I reckon you've mistook me for some- 
body else. Who do you take me fur and who 
are you, anyway ? ' 

"'I've made no mistake,' I answered. 'You're 
Tucker, the jayhawker, an' I'm Jack, the giant- 
killer' — an' wasn't that a big blufF? 'Now,' says I, 
'back out a step till I pick up your guns.' 

"He did so, an' I kept a close watch of him 

67 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

while I gathered in his battery an' buckled the 
belt around me over my own. 

"Then I commanded, * Dismount!' which he did 
like a little man, an' I made him tie his horse to a 
tree; an' then I undone his lariat from his saddle 
an' made him turn his back to me while I tied his 
elbows together behind his back with one end of 
the lariat; an' with the other end made fast to the 
horn of the saddle, with a good holt of it in me 
fist, I mounted his fine horse an' druv him before 
me, as you saw. 

"An' now what are we to do with him? No 
doubt he deserves hanging, as they all do, but it 
ain't my style to kill a helpless prisoner an' I know 
you nor Tom wouldn't do such a thing, though 
I told Tucker, comin' along — ^just to keep him 
well scared up that we would hang him in the 
mornin', sure as fate, as soon as it was light enough 
to see how to do a good job of it; an' I b'lieve he's 
afeard we're going to do it, for he's been mighty 
serious ever since. Ef we was nigh to any of 
Uncle Sam's sogers we could just turn him over 
to them, an' tl^'d fix him, sure, for the order is 
out fer these jayhawkers to be exterminated to 
death or druv out of Kansas, an' the sogers is 
huntin' 'em down wherever they can hear of 'em. 
By the way, the ol' storekeeper told me that he 
had sent oflFthat letter, by the mail that went past 
this evenin', to General Hunter, at Leavenworth, 
askin' him to send a few sogers out along the Santa 
Fe road to look after these fellers." 

68 



JACK TAKES A PRISONER 

While Jack had been telhng us all this we had 
been standing far enough away from the prisoner 
so that we were sure he could not hear what was 
said. 

Tom, while apparently listening to Jack, asked 
no questions and offered no suggestions but 
seemed wrapped in his own thoughts, and I knew, 
from often having seen him in a similar revery, 
that he was studying out some "strategy," as he 
would call it, to spring on our enemies, the jay- 
hawkers. 

When Jack came to a pause Tom began: 

"Men, we can't afford to fool away much more 
time with these robbers. An idea struck me when 
I saw that big fellow tied to the wagon wheel, an' 
I've been ponderin' on it ever since, an' if we can 
carry out the scheme I think I see a way of run- 
ning a bluff on him an' his gang that will scare 
'em out of this neighborhood, an' that will be the 
next best thing to killing 'em an' we won't have 
to stay here. Now, listen an' I'll give you a hint 
of my plan. We'll go into the tent, where we'll be 
close enough to him for Tucker to hear what we're 
saying ef he listens right sharp, an' I know he'll 
do that. I'll give you two men a little talk that'll 
go to show that instead of our being what we've 
represented ourselves to be — that is, three wolf 
hunters goin' out to the buffalo range — we are 
really three soldiers disguised this way an' sent out 
here to do a little detective service on purpose to 

69 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

locate this gang of jayhawkers, an' that the com- 
pany of cavalry to which we belong is coming on 
close behind us, ready to swoop down an' gobble 
up the gang as soon as I give 'em the word. An' 
then, when we git Tucker to take this all in we'll 
manage to let him escape an' carry this news to 
his gang; an' ef I ain't badly mistaken they'll 
pack up an' pull out from here as quick as they 
can get away. Now, mind you, I'm sergeant in 
charge." 

*'Be the powers o' mud," exclaimed Jack. 
"That's a fine scheme if we can only make it 
work, ef it pans out the way you've planned it. 
Tom — or sergeant, I should have said — I'll always 
think that a great general was sp'ilt when they 
made only a private of you. Now go ahead with 
your rat killin' an' let's be tryin' it on." 

As our conference ended we strolled back to the 
tent and Tom began giving orders for guarding 
our prisoner through the night. 

*'Now, men, we'll divide the night into three 
parts, like a 'running guard,' an' each one of us'll 
take a third of the night to stand post. An', mind 
you, don't go to sleep on post or the prisoner 
might git away. I guess we'll let Jack take the 
first watch, an' you. Peck, can come on for the 
middle tour, an' you may call me up for the last 
turn. Ef you think you won't git sleepy you 
might bring out one of the camp-chairs an' take a 
seat where you can keep a close watch of the pris- 

70 



JACK TAKES A PRISONER 

oner; but ef you find yourself gittin' the least bit 
drowsy you must get up an' walk about, for it 
won't do for the sentry to go to sleep to-night." 

*'Why, fellows," whined the big jayhawker, 
*'you shorely don't mean to leave me in this fix 
all night, do you? I don't see how I can stan' it 
so long." 

*'Well, as to that," said Jack with a fierce look 
of assumed heartlessness, "ef it'd be any accom- 
modation to you we might be able to rig up some 
sort of a gallows out about the barn an' swing you 
off to-night so's you wouldn't have to stan' there 
all night. Come to think of it," he continued, 
turning to Tom and me, "that would be a good 
scheme for us as well as to put the prisoner out of 
his misery, fer ef we hang him to-night instead of 
waitin' till mornin' we'll save ourselves the trouble 
of standing guard over him, an' that's quite an 
item. What do you say to it.?" 

But Tom and I decided that with no better 
light than a candle, which the wind might blow 
out, the jayhawker might escape, and if he didn't 
we would not be able to do a good job of hanging 
with so poor a light. And the prisoner concluded 
that he would try and worry through the night on 
the wagon wheel rather than put us to so much 
inconvenience. 



71 



CHAPTER VIII 
TOM'S STRATEGY 

/'^ALLING us Inside the tent and changing 
^^ our bayonet candlestick to a position where 
it would be protected from the wind, while the 
light would still shine on the prisoner through 
the open tent door, Tom, in a low voice, began 
giving us the talk that we intended Tucker should 
overhear. 

"Now, men," began the old man, *'the objects 
of our expedition are so nearly accomplished that 
I thought I'd better explain the situation to you 
more fully so that you will clearly understand the 
parts you are to play in our future movements. 
Everything is working out, so far, just as the cap- 
tain planned it. I don't beheve that anybody 
along the road or any of these jayhawkers sus- 
pects us of being soldiers or anything else but 
jest what we've told 'em, that we are three wolf 
hunters goin' out to the buffalo range. There's 
nothin' military about our team an' camp outfit 
except the Sibley tent an' our rifles, an' lots of 
citizens use them; an' laying aside our uniforms 
an' puttin' on these new buckskin togs makes us 
look Hke three tenderfeet tryin' to imitate fron- 

72 



TOM'S STRATEGY 

tiersmen. I must give our captain credit for long- 
headedness, for 'twas him planned the whole ex- 
pedition." 

*'An' I give the captain credit," interrupted 
Jack, "for selectin' a sergeant, among all the non- 
coms of the company, who could carry out his 
plans to the letter." 

**Thanks," returned Tom with a wink. "An' 
the two privates that were selected to go with the 
sergeant shows that our captain knows his men." 

"Now," continued Tom, "ef things turn out as 
they look now, I think our trip'll end right here, 
for weVe got our game purty nigh bagged. The 
captain, with the company, has kept just far 
enough behind us to keep out of sight, an' to-night 
they're about ten miles back on the road; an' ef 
he gits the message I sent to him this afternoon, 
which I'm sure he will, they ought to be here, or 
over about the store, rather — for there's where I 
promised to meet 'em — a little after midnight." 

I c }uld see that our prisoner was taking a keen 
interest in Tom's remarks, craning his neck for- 
ward and turning an ear toward the tent door in 
an attitude of attentive listening. 

"I have arranged with the boy," continued the 
old veteran, "who carried my message back to the 
captain, to guide the company up to the store an' 
to meet me there not later than two o'clock to- 
night. An' this boy has been down to the jay- 
hawkers' camp an' knows the lay of the land all 

73 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

around there; an' when I join the captain an' com- 
pany the boy is to guide us all to the camp, or 
nigh enough so that the captain can string the 
company all around 'em; an' as soon as it's light 
enough we'll close in on 'em an' make sure that 
nary one gits away. From what Jack says, they 
are all pretty full of whiskey an' will be apt to 
sleep sound, an' it'll be an easy matter to gobble 
the whole caboodle." 

**Sh, sergeant," I said in a loud enough whisper 
for the prisoner to hear. ** Don't talk so loud — 
the jayhawker might hear you." 

"Oh, I don't think he could hear what I say, 
'way out there; but it won't make much differ- 
ence ef he does, fer he'll never live long enough to 
profit by what he might hear, for he's pretty nigh 
as good as a dead man right now. His time's 
short." 

Tucker had dropped his head forward — in our 
direction — as far as he could lean, and had closed 
his eyes as if asleep, but was trying to catch very 
word that was said. 

"But, sergeant," I asked Tom, "what will the 
captain do with the jayhawkers after he takes 'em 
in — take 'em back to Leavenworth as prisoners?" 

"Not much," replied the old man. "He has 
his orders from General Hunter to exterminate 
these jayhawkers wherever he can catch 'em — to 
shoot or hang 'em; an' you know our old captain 
is jest the man that'll take delight in carryin' them 

74 



TOM'S STRATEGY 

orders out to the letter. We've heard complaints 
enough from people along the road to satisfy the 
captain that these rescals are entitled to no mercy, 
an' you bet they'll get none from him." 

**But, sergeant," inquired Jack, *'what will we 
do with this feller? Hang him in the mornin'?" 

"No; unless he should try to get away, accord- 
ing to my orders, we'll have to keep him till the 
company gits here an' then turn him over to the 
captain. It'll only delay his hanging a little while, 
for the captain'll fix him quick enough. But ef 
he should accidentally get loose an' run, why, 
shoot him, of course." 

**Well, I'm sorry," said Jack, *^that we can't 
hang him ourselves as soon as daylight comes, fer 
I promised him that, an' I always like to make my 
words good." 

*'Now," continued Tom, '^I want you two men 
to keep a close watch of him an' give him no 
chance to give us the slip, for that'd spoil all our 
plans." 

''We'll see that he don't get away." 

"Well, as I've got to meet the captain an' com- 
pany over at the store a little after midnight, I'll 
lie down an' try to git a little sleep, an' you an' 
Jack'll have to divide the time between you, 
guardin' the prisoner, for, of course, I'll not be 
able to get back here till some time after daylight, 
an' when I come it'll be with the company. I 
guess," added Tom after a pause, "I'd better ride 

75 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

the jayhawkers' horse over to meet the company; 
he'll make a better mount for me than one of our 
broncos." 

*'Yes, do so," said Jack; ''he's a good one, I 
think." Then he added pleadingly: "But, ser- 
geant, is they no way we could fix it so that me 
an' Peck could go with you on this round-up? 
S'pose we go out to the barn an' hang this feller 
to-night, or shoot him, an' say he tried to run — 
then we could all go." 

"No," replied Tom decidedly, "that won't do 
at all. Remember the old saying, 'It's a good sol- 
dier that obeys orders,' an' we've got our orders 
to hold any and all prisoners we may chance to 
take and turn 'em over to the captain. Much as 
rd like to have both of you along, you must stay 
an' take care of the camp an' prisoner. But TU 
speak a good word to the captain fer 3^ou, an' I 
think I can safely promise that you'll both be 
made corporals as soon as there's vacancies in the 
company." 

"Well," said Jack sorrowfully, "I suppose we'll 
have to stan' it; but I hate like blazes to break my 
promise to the jayhawker, for I told him he could 
depend on bein' hung at daylight." 

"But, sergeant," I put in, "won't the jayhawk- 
ers down at their camp, waiting for their chief, 
suspect something wrong when he don't show 
up?" 

"No, it ain't likely. They were all pretty full 

76 



TOM'S STRATEGY 

on leaving the store, Jack says, an' they'll be apt 
to go right to sleep on gettin' to camp an' think 
no more about it till mornin'. An' ef they do hap- 
pen to miss him they'll think he got too drunk to 
git back to camp an' so laid out some'ers. 

"Now, Jack," said Tom in concluding this con- 
versation, ''you may as well put that candle out 
an' take post outside where you kin keep an eye 
on the prisoner. An', Peck, you'll take a turn 
around camp, to see that the animals are all tied 
securely, an' then turn in, an' you an' me'U be 
tryin' to get what sleep we can afore it's time for 
us to go on." 

As we came out of the tent the captive seemed 
to be just rousing up from a nap he pretended to 
have been taking and whined: 

*'Men, would you mind loosenin' these strings 
around my wrists and ankles a little mite? 
They're cuttin' into my flesh." 

"Well," replied Tom compassionately, "we 
don't want to torture a man unnecessarily. It'll 
be enough to put him to death properly, when the 
time comes, without keepin' him a-sufFerin' so 
long. Loosen up them cords a little. Jack. There 
won't be much danger of his gettin' away, without 
you should go to sleep, an' I know you won't do 
that." 

Jack complied with Tom's instructions with ap- 
parent reluctance, grumbling as he did so. He 
purposely slackened the cords on the wrists so 

77 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

much that the man would probably be able to 
slip his hands out of them, seeming to rely on his 
watchfulness and shotgun to prevent the possi- 
bility of an escape. Then bringing out a camp- 
chair, the Irishman sat down with the shotgun 
across his lap while I made a tour of the camp as 
directed. Then joining Tom in the tent, I put out 
the light and we pretended to turn in for a sleep. 
In reality we lay down near the open tent door, 
where, having the prisoner between us and the 
white wagon cover, we could see every motion he 
might make, for it had been arranged that Jack 
should apparently go to sleep in his chair and let 
the jayhawker have a chance to get away. 

Jack had prudently taken his seat far enough 
from the prisoner so that the latter could not, 
after freeing himself, spring upon him and seize 
his shotgun, and Tom and I, in anticipation of 
such an effort, lay down with pistols ready to 
defeat the move should it be attempted. We had 
chained the dog far enough away to be out of 
reach of the jayhawker, for fear that he might 
catch the fugitive and thus spoil our scheme. 

Tucker remained in his fixed position on the 
wagon wheel an exasperatingly long time before 
he began to make any move toward freeing him- 
self, and he remained so still that I began to 
think that he had fallen asleep in spite of his un- 
comfortable position. 

After manifestly keeping awake for a reasonable 

78 



TOM'S STRATEGY 

time so as to give his actions a semblance of re- 
ality, Jack began to nod in his chair, and finally 
let his head drop against the back of his seat, very 
naturally, but in a position that would enable 
him, through nearly closed eyes, to watch every 
move of the prisoner; and then the Irishman be- 
gan to snore. Tom and I responded by doing our 
share of hard breathing, and now the captive be- 
gan to show some signs of life. 

In the dim light I could see him — silhouetted 
against the white wagon cover — leaning over to 
his left and working his right arm as if slipping 
the hand out of the loop that held it to the wheel. 
When that hand was free he resumed his original 
position, kept perfectly still for a moment, and, 
when apparently assured that we were all still 
asleep, he dropped his free right hand slowly to 
his waist and carried the hand to his mouth, evi- 
dently having drawn his pocket-knife and opened 
a blade with his teeth. Instead of untying the 
bonds on his other hand and ankles he had con- 
cluded that the quickest and quietest way was to 
cut them. 

After replacing his right hand in its former po- 
sition on the wheel, watching Jack closely for a 
moment, and listening intently to our steady, hard 
breathing, he quietly reached over with the knife 
in his free hand and cut the string that held his left 
wrist to the wheel; then replacing both hands on 
the wheel again for a moment as if tied, he looked 

79 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

earnestly at Jack and then turned an ear toward 
our tent door. 

Assured by our snoring that we were all asleep, 
he reached down and cut the cords that held his 
ankles, after which he gave another earnest look 
at Jack, took a step out from the wheel, and no 
doubt intended to steal quietly out to his horse 
and mount him; but as soon as he started from 
the wagon the dog gave an angry growl and sprang 
the length of his chain toward the escaping jay- 
hawker. 

Knowing that his flight would now be discov- 
ered, Tucker quickly darted around the wagon, 
to get out of the range of Jack's shotgun, with 
Found lunging on his chain and barking furiously. 

Jack sprang to his feet, calling to the fugitive, 
*^Halt! halt!" as he rushed around the wagon, 
followed by Tom and me, only to see the form of 
the jayhawker disappearing rapidly in the dark- 
ness. Still calling out ''Halt! halt!" Jack let ofF 
one barrel after another of his shotgun, but high 
over the head of the retreating rufl&an, merely to 
accelerate his speed. Tucker made no attempt to 
get his horse and was probably only too glad to 
get away with a sound carcass. 

After chasing him out on the prairie a little way, 
calling excitedly to one another to mount and fol- 
low the fugitive and try to head him off at some 
point toward the jayhawkers' camp — all to im- 
press Tucker, in case he heard us, of the earnest- 

80 



TOM'S STRATEGY 

ness of our pursuit and our anxiety to recapture 
him — we returned to our tent to chuckle over the 
success of Tom's strategy. 

"'Tain't Hkely," observed Tom, "that he'll fool 
away time hanging around here to try to get his 
horse. He's scared bad, for sure, an' no doubt 
b'lieves every word of that yarn I got off about the 
company of cavalry; but, to be on the safe side. 
Jack, you'd best bring the black horse up here an' 
tie him to the wagon wheel that his former master 
jest vacated, an' then turn Found loose, an' I'll 
guarantee no prowler'll come nigh our camp with- 
out our gettin' due notice of it." 

'*Holy smoke," exclaimed Jack, still comment- 
ing on the jayhawker's escape, "didn't he run! 
When I run 'round the wagon after him I could 
have shot him easy, ef I'd wanted to, fer he lost 
so much ground a-zigzaggin' as he run, to keep me 
from hittin' him when I shot, that he hadn't got 
very far ahead of me. But after I let off both bar- 
rels of the shotgun he struck a bee-line fer the 
timber, only hitting the ground in high places. 
He'll lose no time in getting back to his camp an' 
rousing up his men an' telling 'em about the com- 
pany of cavalry that's comin' after midnight to sur- 
round their camp an' hang or shoot every moth- 
er's son of 'em. What a time the half-drunken 
robbers'll have a-saddling up in the dark an' get- 
in' away from there in a hurry. They'll put as 
many miles as they can between them an' their ol' 

8i 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 
camp before that company of cavalry surrounds 



em. 



After carrying out Tom's orders we all turned 
in and slept till daylight, when the veteran's 
usual morning call brought back the recollection 
of the recent exciting incidents. 

After breakfast Tom rode over to the store to 
see what he could learn of the jayhawkers. 

Before he started: Jack asked, "Tom, what are 
we to do with Tucker's horse .^" 

*'Why, Jack, ef no more rightful owner than 
Tucker turns up to claim him the horse is fairly 
yours by right of capture." 

"I've been thinkin' it over," said Jack, "an' 
come to this conclusion: We know that these jay- 
hawkers make a business of robbing people, taking 
all the good horses an' mules they come across; it's 
more'n likely that this Tucker has stole this fine 
horse from somebody hereabouts, an' I think the 
square thing to do will be to leave word with the 
ol' storekeeper that in case any man comes along 
claiming the horse, an' can prove his property, 
we'll give him up to the rightful owner. If the 
owner should show up in a day or two he can 
follow us up, prove ownership, an' take his horse. 
Ef he shouldn't show up until after we've got out 
to our winter's camp, or well on the road toward 
it, we'll leave word with the storekeeper to say 
that we'll be comin' back this way in the spring 
an' we'll fix the business up then." 

82 



TOM'S STRATEGY 

"Good idea, Jack," said Tom. "I guess that'll 
be as good a plan as any to settle about the own- 
ership of the horse, an' we'll leave it that way." 

"As to the horse being mine," added Jack, "in 
case no owner turns up, I don't look at it that 
way. This is a partnership concern, I take it, an' 
everything belongs to all hands. But that horse 
is a dandy. I was out brushin' him off a bit ago, 
an' I haven't laid a currycomb on a finer animal 
this long time. He's young — only six years old — 
well built, clean-limbed, got good action, fine car- 
riage, sound as a dollar, an' I'll warrant he can 
run a good lick, too." 

As Tom started ofF, instead of following the road 
he took a course across the prairie that would 
bring him to the creek some distance from the 
regular ford, thus, instinctively, as it were, follow- 
ing out an old frontier scouting rule by which we 
were taught that in travelling a probably danger- 
ous road one should avoid the regular crossing of 
a timbered creek as a precaution against being 
ambushed. 

About the middle of the forenoon Tom made 
his appearance and soon joined us. 

In response to our eager inquiries for news he 
replied : 

"Good news. Our strategy won the game. 
The whole gang, lock, stock, an' barrel, lit out 
from their ol' camp last night about midnight, an' 
went in a hurry, too. Judging by the signs an' 

83 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

what a man told us who heard 'em gittin' away 
across the prairie, they must have been scared. 
Now, let's hitch up an' strike the road again an' 
try to make up some of the time we've lost here — 
for we've been knocked out of nearly a day's drive 
by these jayhawkers. I'll tell you all about it 
as we go along." 

We soon had our team strung out and were 
again rolling along the old Santa Fe road, Jack 
and I on the wagon seat, w4th Tom riding the 
black horse alongside and giving us the particulars 
of his visit to the store. 

"When I got to the store," he said, "early as it 
was, I found a farmer there who lives down near 
where the jayhawkers have been camped an' who 
had come up to report that some time before 
midnight he had heard considerable commotion in 
their camp, an' shortly afterward heard a wagon 
an' some mounted men pass not far from his 
house, goin' southward across the prairie. He 
supposed that the gang was breaking camp an' 
moving away, but couldn't understand why they 
should light out so sudden an' at such an hour. 
When daylight come he visited the abandoned 
camp an' there saw plenty of signs that they'd 
gone in a hurry. They left clothin', lariats, an' 
other camp equipage scattered about that they 
had failed to gather up in the dark. 

"Well, when I got to the store the farmer an' 
the storekeeper was all worked up an' tickled at 

84 



TOM'S STRATEGY 

the going of their unwelcome neighbors; an* their 
astonishment was greater still to see me ridin' 
Tucker's fine black horse an' saddle, which they 
all seemed to recognize at first sight. 

"To explain the situation to 'em, an' how I come 
to be ridin' Tucker's horse, I had to tell 'em all 
about the jayhawkers comin' to our camp to try 
to bluff us out of our mules, an' how we stood 
'em off; an' about Jack capturin' the big duffer; 
an' how we made a * spread eagle' of him an' give 
him a good scaring up with that yarn of the com- 
pany of cavalry coming; an' how we give him a 
chance to get away; an' how he got. 

"I told the storekeeper what Jack's plan was, 
in case an owner for the black horse should turn 
up; but he don't think the horse b'longs to any 
one in this part of the country; an' ef anybody 
comes 'round inquiring for such a horse he's to 
write to me at Fort Larned. 

"The ol' feller was dreadful uneasy for fear the 
jayhawkers would find out that we'd gone on out 
to the plains an' that there was really no com- 
pany of cavalry behind us and then would come 
back. But I tol' him not to worry about that, 
for I believed there would be a company of cav- 
alry here from Fort Leavenworth before long in 
answer to that letter he had written to General 
Hunter. 

"I put another idea into his head, tellin' him 
that he could help the soldiers to capture or break 

8s 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

up the gang by havin' a man foller their trail an' 
find out just where they locate. He took up with 
the idea right away, an' the farmer said he'd fol- 
ler the trail. When he gets 'em located he's to 
come back an' guide the soldiers to the jayhawk- 
ers' camp." 

As we passed through the strip of timber at the 
crossing of the little creek where the jayhawkers 
had planned to get the drop on us we noticed 
that it would have been an admirable place for 
such a manoeuvre, and Jack and I commented on 
the possibilities of an encounter with the enemy 
here. 

"You're wastin' your wind," interrupted Tom 
impatiently. "I had it all planned out to take a 
by-road that leads off from the house where we 
camped, which crosses the creek — so the store- 
keeper had told me — about a quarter of a mile 
below this crossin', comin' into the main road 
again in the prairie beyond. In that way we'd 
have left the jayhawkers *holdin' the sack,' like 
the feller that went a-snipe huntin'." 



S6 



CHAPTER IX 
BUFFALO NEAR THE BIG BEND 

^TpHAT afternoon we reached Council Grove, on 
-*- the west bank of Neosho River. It was then 
a place of less than a hundred and fifty inhabi- 
tants but an important business point — the out- 
post of Kansas settlements and the last town, going 
westward, until Denver, Colorado, was reached. 
Travellers going to the plains usually halted here 
to lay in any requisites for their trip that might 
have been overlooked in starting from the Mis- 
souri River and also for last repairs on wagons 
and for horseshoeing. 

The tires on our hind wheels had become a little 
loose, and we decided to have them shrunk and 
reset, so we camped by a blacksmith shop near the 
centre of the village, and soon had the blacksmith 
at our work, which he finished before dark. 

Making an early start next morning, we rolled 
out, nooned at Diamond Springs, fifteen miles 
from the Grove, where there was but one family, 
and at evening camped at Lost Springs, thirty 
miles from Council Grove, where Jack Costillo's 
ranch was the only habitation. So long as the 
road and weather were fine we wished to make up 

87 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

the time lost in being delayed by the jayhawkers 
and lengthened our drives accordingly. 

We were now fairly launched on the plains and 
would see little more timber and no habitations 
of white men except an occasional trading ranch 
at the crossing of some creek along the road. We 
were nearing the eastern edge of the buffalo range. 

The road from Fort Riley, that we had formerly 
travelled in going out to the Arkansas River and 
back, enters the Santa Fe road here at Lost 
Springs. At this camp there was no timber and 
no running water — merely a series of water-holes 
strung along a prairie hollow. This had long been 
a well-known camping ground; but where the 
springs were from which it takes the name I 
never knew, for I never saw any. 

We pitched our tent near where the Fort Riley 
road enters the Santa Fe and after supper at- 
tended to the usual camp work. After we had 
groomed and fed our animals the Irishman and I 
strolled up to the ranch to renew old acquain- 
tance with the proprietor. Jack Costillo, also an 
Irishman, whom we had previously known as a 
soldier in the Mounted Rifle Regiment in New 
Mexico. 

Costillo was delighted to meet us again and, of 
course, set out his best for us. We spent a couple 
of hours very pleasantly talking over old times 
with him and then returned to our camp. As we 
walked along, thinking of the Italian name borne 

88 



BUFFALO NEAR THE BIG BEND 

by this man, who, as Jack said, *'wore the map 
of Ireland on his face," I remarked : 

"When I hear such names as O'Shaughnessy, 
Finnegan, or McCarthy given for an Irishman, 
they seem natural and Irish enough, but now 
and then I find an Irishman with what seems to 
be a very un-Irish name, such as Costillo's, for in- 
stance. How do you account for these misfit 
names. Jack?" 

"Oh, that's 'asy," replied Jack. "You see, ould 
Ireland is a sea-girt isle an' is visited by ships of 
various nations, an' now an' then some foreign 
sailor, in an Irish port, falls in love with an Irish 
girl an' marries her, an' the childther, of course, 
will bear the foreigner's name, though they be as 
Irish as Paddy's pigs." 

"Well, that is a reasonable explanation of a 
question that has occasioned me a good deal of 
speculation," I answered, "and, accepting your 
solution of the problem, my mind will be much 
easier in the future." 

At these roadside ranches, which had sprung 
up at every important camping place along the 
road since the Pike's Peak gold discovery, liquor 
was sold and a small general assortment kept of 
such goods as were in demand by travellers. 

No attempt was made to cultivate the soil or 
raise crops; they were there merely for the trade 
of the road and — at points farther out — for In- 
dian trade. They also bought worn-out stock 

89 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

from passing oufits and, after resting and re- 
cruiting such animals, sold them to other travel- 
lers needing fresh animals. 

The Santa Fe mail contractors, Hall & Porter, of 
Independence, Missouri, had established stations 
at certain ranches, but beyond Council Grove there 
were, as yet, no regular eating or lodging stations 
for passengers in the mail-coaches. They had to 
carry their own bedding and take camp fare with 
the mail hands — two drivers and a conductor to 
each coach. 

At Cottonwood Creek, the next camp west of 
Lost Springs, we began to see buffalo — a few 
straggling old bulls at some distance from the 
road — but as yet no herds. By the time we had 
reached the Little Arkansas small bands became 
more numerous and neighborly; and from there on 
the herds grew larger, till by the time we reached 
the vicinity of Fort Larned — much later — dense 
masses of them were to be seen in every direc- 
tion. 

As far west as Lost Springs we found multi- 
tudes of prairie-chickens along the road and our 
shotgun kept our mess supplied with fresh meat. 
From Lost Springs westward we saw no more 
prairie-chickens, but as we soon reached the 
buffalo range we killed young buffalo or antelope. 

In running buffalo we used the black horse, 
Jack's capture, and although at first somewhat 
shy of the brown, woolly monsters, he soon got 

90 



BUFFALO NEAR THE BIG BEND 

used to them and evinced keen interest in the 
chase. 

In killing a buffalo for fresh meat we usually 
selected a yearling or two-year-old, to insure ten- 
der meat, and cut out only a few pounds of the 
choicest parts from the carcass, buffalo being so 
plenty that we seldom thought of the wasteful- 
ness of this then common practice. 

Antelope, the fleetest and most graceful animal 
on the plains, could seldom be overhauled by 
a mounted man, but their inquisitiveness was so 
great that they would often, in herds of a dozen 
or more, approach our camp through curiosity; 
and if they did not come close enough to suit us, 
by displaying a red blanket we could lure them on, 
almost close enough to knock them over with a 
stick. Their meat is tender and well flavored, 
but at certain seasons there is little fat on it and 
a little bacon cooked with it improves it. 

Coming in from grooming the black horse one 
day. Jack declared: 

"The more I handle that horse the better I like 
him. He's one of the best I ever rubbed a brush 
over. I've been wondering who that jayhawker 
could have stole him from an' dreading lest the 
owner should follow us up an' claim his property, 
in which case, of course, we'd have to give him 
up." 

"Well, Jack," I replied, "it ain't likely that the 
owner of the horse, whoever he may be, will ever 

91 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

bother us; and when we hear from the old store- 
keeper, back where you got him, if no owner has 
shown up there to inquire about him, then your 
claim is the next best and he'll be your horse." 

"No," said the impulsive Irishman, "ef we're 
to git to kape him he's to be company property 
— he'll belong to all of us." 

"Well," put in Tom, "I've been thinkin' that 
the black horse is entitled to a name, anyhow. 
We've named the mules — or Wild Bill did — 'Dink' 
an' *Judy' an' the broncos * Polly' an' ^Vinegar'; 
now, what'U we call the horse?" 

"Why not call him * Captain Tucker,' after the 
jayhawker.^" I suggested. 

"No," promptly objected Jack, "it wouldn't be 
treatin' the horse fair to call him after such a 
scoundrel." 

"How would * Black Prince' do.?" proposed 
Tom. 

"That suits me better. * Black Prince' it shall 
be." 

Passing successively Cottonwood Creek, Big 
and Little Turkey Creeks, Little Arkansas, Jarvis 
Creek, Big and Little Cow Creeks, we reached Big 
Bend, the point where the Santa Fe trail, going 
westward, first strikes the Arkansas River. 

Before reaching Big Bend we noticed with un- 
easiness that the tires on our fore wheels were 
becoming loose. At Council Grove, where we had 
had the tires of the hind wheels shrunk and reset, 

92 



BUFFALO NEAR THE BIG BEND 

those of the fore wheels had seemed tight enough; 
but since leaving there the woodwork of the fore 
wheels had been shrinking more and more each 
day, until now something must be done to tighten 
them or we would soon have a broken-down 
wagon. We had hoped to reach Fort Larned 
before having to reset these tires, but from Big 
Bend it was nearly two days' drive to the fort. 

Seeing old Tom examining the wheels, I asked: 

"Well, Tom, what are we going to do about it.? 
Hadn't we better take them fore wheels off and 
throw them into the river overnight.?" 

"No," replied the old man, "that would only 
help us for a day and by to-morrow night they'd 
be dry as ever. We'll just give 'em a plains- 
man's shrinking, an' that's pretty nigh as good as 
to have a blacksmith cut an' weld an' reset 'em. 
We'll swell the felloes by puttin' canvas between 
them an' the tires. The first thing is to unload 
the wagon." 

It was quite a job, but Jack and I soon had the 
stuff all out and stacked up on the ground. 

"Now, prop up the front ex an' take off the 
wheels." 

This was soon accomplished. 

"Now, while I knock off the tires you an' Jack 
can get out your gunny sacks an' carry up a whole 
lot of buffalo-chips an' pile 'em handy." 

By the time we had done this Tom had taken 
off the tires and laid them down, one on top of 

93 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

the other, raised a couple of inches ofF the ground 
by stones placed here and there under them. 

"Now pile your chips all round over the tires, 
'bout a foot deep, an' then set 'em afire, an' the 
breeze'll keep the fire a-boomin'; an' while the 
tires is a-heating bring the wheels up here close by; 
get that piece of old canvas out o' the wagon; cut 
some strips from it long as you can git 'em, jist 
the width of the felloes; get some of the tacks out 
of the till of the mess-chest; put the canvas strips 
on the outside of the felloes, draw 'em tight, an' 
tack 'em here an' there as you go round the wheel 
until you get about four thicknesses of canvas 
on; then give the outside layer of canvas a little 
wettin' so's it won't burn out afore we can git 
the tire cooled ofF. Then lay the wheels down 
handy to the fire, with a rock here an' there under 
the rims to make 'em lay solid." 

When this had all been done: 

*'Now get the shovel an' scoop out a little, 
long hole in the ground close by an' keep it filled 
with water. Bring the pick an' shovel an' spade 
an' axe an' hatchet an' lay 'em handy. Then 
fill all the buckets with water an' set 'em close 

by." 

The wind kept the circle of bufFalo-chips that 
covered the tires blazing briskly, and by the time 
the chips were nearly burnt out we could see that 
the tires were red-hot and knew that they had ex- 
panded enough to drop over the canvassed wheels. 

94 



BUFFALO NEAR THE BIG BEND 

"Now,'* resumed Tom, "we'll have to work 
lively an' make no mislicks when we drop a tire 
over a wheel so's to get it cooled an' shrunk on 
afore it burns out the canvas. We'll have to use 
the pick an' spade an' shovel to lift 'em out o' the 
fire an' drop 'em over the wheels. Peck, you 
take the pick. Jack the shovel, an' I'll take the 
spade. When all's ready I'll give the word, an', 
Peck, you stick the point of your pick under the 
top tire an' lift it up a little so's me an' Jack can 
slip our shovel an' spade under it; then the three 
of us'll lift the tire out of the fire an' lay it in its 
place over the wheel an' then go to pourin' water 
on, an' quick as it's shrunk enough to stay on 
Jack'll run his shovel handle through the hole in 
the hub, pry the wheel up, an' with one of you on 
each side, a-holt of the shovel handle, you can 
hold the wheel over the pool of water with the 
lower rim in the water while I spin it 'round, an', 
with axe in one hand an' hatchet in the other, I'll 
hammer the tire to its place as it shrinks. Now, 
do you men * savvy' all them instructions?" 

We "savvied," and, following Tom's directions, 
we soon had both tires nicely reset and shrunk, 
and it made a very substantial job. It was hot 
and laborious work and gave us unusually keen 
appetites for the supper that followed, which 
Tom prepared, while Jack and I reloaded our 
wagon. 



95 



CHAPTER X 
WHY SATANK KILLED PEACOCK 

A FTER supper, as we lay on our beds in the 
•^ ^ tent talking over old times, Jack recalled to 
my mind the Cheyenne campaign of 1857 and 
how we used to gather wild plums in the sand- 
hills near where we were now camped. He spoke 
also of a man bitten by a rattlesnake near here. 
This called out a story from Tom, who said : 

"Speakin' of rattlesnakes reminds me of a little 
incident that happened out in New Mexico when 
I was in the old First Dragoons. I was a ser- 
geant, an' we had a new recruit in the company 
by the name of Nesbit — a mighty quiet sort of a 
feller that the men called a 'stoughton-bottle,' or a 
*bump on a log' — a good man for duty, only he 
didn't make free with the other men or have 
much to say to anybody. He had a fashion in hot 
weather, when he was loungin' about camp off 
duty, of goin' barefooted, with the bottoms of his 
pants an' drawers rolled up several inches. 

"One day, when we was camped on the Rio 
Grande, water call had jest gone, an' we'd all 
started out from our tents to water our horses 
an' picket 'em out on fresh grass. I was walkin' a 
few steps behind Nesbit when I heard the whiz- 

96 



WHY SATANK KILLED PEACOCK 

whir of a rattlesnake in the direction of the man, 
an' as I looked to'rds him I was horrified to see a 
big rattler that seemed to have hold of one of his 
ankles an' was a-jerkin' an' squirmin' an' wrap- 
pin' itself all 'round his leg; but, as I found out 
afterward, the snake had struck at his ankle an' 
caught a mouthful of the roll of Nesbit's trousers 
an' got his fangs tangled so's he couldn't git loose 
but hadn't touched the leg at all. 

"Well, sir, I was nearly paralyzed with fear 
an' was tryin' to think of some way I could help 
the man but didn't see how. He never said a 
word, but just reached down as cool as ef he was 
goin' to pluck a flower, grabbed the snake right 
back of its head so close it couldn't turn to bite 
his hand when it got its fangs loose, then pulled 
its fangs loose from the roll of his trousers an' 
pulled the snake away from where it was wrapped 
around his leg. It coiled itself around his arm 
an' kep' its rattle a-hummin', and I couldn't 
imagine how he was goin' to get rid of it without 
gettin' bit. 

"Well, it all happened quicker'n scat, an' while 
I was a-tryin' to study out some way I could help 
him out he knew just what to do an' was a-doing 
it without asking anybody's help. 

"He just reached for his belt with the other 
hand, pulled his butcher-knife, sliced the snake's 
head off clean — taking a slice out of his finger in 
doing it, shook the snake loose from his arm an' 

97 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

dropped it, stooped down an' dug a little hole 
with his knife, raked the snake's head into it an' 
covered it up so's nobody would tramp on it with 
bare feet an' get pizened, wiped his knife on his 
britches' leg an' returned it to the sheath, tore a 
piece off his ol' hankercher an' wrapped his cut 
finger up, an' went on an' 'tended to his horse — 
all without sayin' a word or makin' any fuss; an' 
when I got my breath enough to say, *Nesbit, that 
was a close call,' he merely remarked indifferent 
like: *Yes, but you know a miss is as good as a 
mile.' 

"It had all been done so quietly an' quickly 
that the other men passin' by hadn't noticed 
what was goin' on. 

"Well, sir, I count that one of the coolest, grit- 
tiest things I ever saw done, an' when I got back 
to camp I went an' told the orderly sergeant about 
it, an' he had to go an' tell the captain; an' then 
the captain sent for me, an' I had to tell him all 
the particulars; an' when I got through all the ol' 
man had to say was, 'He'll do,' but I could see 
that the captain was mightily pleased with the 
raw recruit. 

"Well, the upshot of it was the next evenin' at 
'retreat' the orderly sergeant published an order 
to the company to the effect that 'Private Nesbit 
is hereby appointed corporal an' will be obeyed 
an' respected accordingly.' 

'You see, the captain saw from that little affair 

98 



WHY SATANK KILLED PEACOCK 

of the snake that Nesbit was something more than 
a 'bump on a log/ an' so he give the man a hft 
to start him, an' in a little while he was made ser- 
geant; an' then, when the ol' orderly sergeant's 
time was out an' he was discharged, Nesbit was 
made first sergeant right over the heads of us old 
hands who'd been in the service a heap longer. 
But he deserved it, an' I never begrudged him the 
promotion, for he made one of the best orderly ser- 
geants I ever knew — always the same quiet, cool, 
nervy Nesbit." 

"I always told you," remarked Jack, "that it 
won't do to set a man down for a fool 'cause his 
clo's don't fit him. 

''Changin' the subject," said Jack, "it's about 
five miles from here up to Charley Rath's ranch, 
at the mouth of Walnut Creek; ain't it, Tom?" 

"Yes; five miles to Walnut Creek, sixteen from 
there to Pawnee Rock, eight miles from the 
Rock to the crossin' of Ash Creek, six from Ash 
Creek to Pawnee Fork, an' three miles, after 
crossing Pawnee Fork, on up the creek will bring 
us to Fort Larned, which is two miles and a half 
ofF the Santa Fe road, but in plain sight of it." 

"I was thinkin'," continued Jack, "about the 
Walnut Creek ranch an' some o' the lively times 
it's seen since I first know'd it. In '57, when we 
come out here on the Cheyenne expedition, Allison 
owned it. Many's the time the Injuns made life 
a burden to AlHson, but still he saved his scalp 

99 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

an* died on the square. In '58 he left his hired 
man, Peacock, in charge of the ranch while he 
took his teams an' went in to Westport, Missouri, 
after goods. On that trip AlHson died suddenly 
at Westport, an', as he had no kinsfolk at the 
ranch an' none ever come out to claim it. Peacock 
jumped the claim an' held it as his own. He, too, 
had some lively times with the Injuns an' was 
finally killed by ol' Satank, in the summer of i860. 
An' then Charley Rath jumped the claim an' still 
holds it, but more'n likely he, too, will lose his 
napper to some o' the Indians yet. It was near 
the ranch, when Peacock had it, that Pawnee, the 
Kiowa chief, was killed by Lieutenant Bayard; 
wasn t it.f^ 

"Yes," I replied, "I was in at the death and 
had an opportunity to have done the killing my- 
self that day, but Lieutenant Bayard came up and 
took the job ofF my hands. You see, I was one of 
the first to mount and start in chase of the Indian 
after he'd escaped from the ranch, mounted his 
horse, and was racing across the level prairie north 
of the ranch. I was riding that speedy little bay 
horse that we called 'Greased Lightning,' that the 
officers used in making races. I'd got the start of 
Bayard and the rest, overtook the Indian in about 
a mile and was right alongside of him, with Lieu- 
tenant Bayard coming up just behind me, and 
when I called back to the lieutenant to ask whether 
I should shoot the Kiowa he replied, *No, let me 

100 



WHY SATANK KILLED PEACOCK 

speak to him/ and I gave way and let Bayard 
come In between me and Pawnee. Bayard called 
on him a couple of times to halt, on the second 
demand firing a shot in front of the Indian as a 
warning, and when he found that the Indian 
only jeered and made faces at him the lieutenant 
reined in a little and let the Kiowa go ahead, and, 
as he did so, dropped his pistol to Pawnee's back, 
saying, *Take it, then,' and let him have it — shoot- 
ing him through the heart. Pawnee threw up his 
hands and fell off his horse dead." 

"Well, by rights," said Jack, "you'd overtook 
the Injun first an' had the best right to have done 
that job, but Bayard took advantage of his bein' 
an officer over you to hog the honors." 

"I didn't consider that there was any particu- 
lar honor in killing that Indian, under the circum- 
stances," I replied, "but I should have done so if 
the lieutenant had said the word. But Bayard 
seemed to think that the Indian would halt and 
surrender on his demand, and when the Kiowa not 
only refused to yield but defied him, why, there 
was nothing else to do but to kill him. We 
thought it strange at first that Pawnee should act 
so defiantly when we had the drop on him, but 
Peacock told us when we got back to the ranch 
that this Indian carried a medicine or charm hung 
around his neck that was supposed to protect him 
from a white man's bullet, and when the lieuten- 
ant fired a shot and missed him he was sure he 

lOI 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

was bullet-proof; but Bayard's bullet killed him 
so quick that he hardly had time to feel disap- 
pointed." 

**I don't know but what it was best, after all," 
remarked old Tom, "seein' that the Injun had to 
be killed, for an officer to do it, for after that shot 
the Kiowas started on the war-path an' caused 
the loss of a good many lives of innocent people 
an' give the troops a whole lot of trouble an' hard 
service for a year or more afterward. Ef it had 
'a' been an enlisted man fired that shot he'd 'a' 
been court-martialled an' punished, more'n likely, 
instead of being honored. So I guess Peck lost 
nothin' by it, for Bayard was sharply reprimanded 
an' had to do a whole lot of explaining to get out 
of trouble for that little job. As to the killing of 
Pawnee bein' the real cause of the Kiowa out- 
break, that was the idea that some fool people 
back East got of it; but none of us ever believed 
that, for we knew from the actions of ol' Satank 
an' his band for some time before that, they was 
bound to go on the war-path with or without 
provocation, an' they seized on the killin' of one o' 
their chiefs as an excuse for turnin' loose on the 
Pike's Peak emigrants an' others along the road." 

"You'll remember," said Jack, "that I wasn't 
with you the next summer on the Kiowa expedi- 
tion, for I'd been left back at Fort Riley, in the 
hospital, but I know Peck an' you" — speaking di- 
rectly to Tom — "was both with Major Sedgwick's 

102 



WHY SATANK KILLED PEACOCK 

command in this part of the country when Pea- 
cock was killed; an', as I've heard two or three 
different stories about that affair, I'd like to know 
the straight of it. Tell me jist how it happened." 

'^Well, sir," began old Tom as he raised up and 
began whittling another pipeful of tobacco, "I 
can give you the straight facts about that scrape, 
for I got 'em from Charley Rath an' the sick man 
— you know at the time Satank killed Peacock 
there was a man sick in bed in the ranch that the 
Injuns never touched, an' he was the only one of 
Peacock's men left alive, 'cept Wild Bill an' John 
Adkins, an' they was away from the ranch some- 
where. After peace was made with the Kiowas 
an' they got to comin' around to the Walnut Creek 
ranch to trade ag'in, Charley Rath was runnin' 
it, an' he got all the particulars about it from the 
Indians who was with Satank when he killed Pea- 
cock. So I think I got it pretty straight. 

"You'll remember that we — that is. Major Sedg- 
wick's command of four companies of First Cav- 
alry from Fort Riley — had been chasin' the Ki- 
owas 'round over the plains all summer, but hadn't 
been able to get a fight out of 'em 'cept that little 
scrimmage our detachment of forty men under Jeb 
Stuart had with Satank an' a little bunch up north 
of Bent's Fort, where we killed eight of 'em an' 
captured all their women an' children an' packs. 

"Captain Sturgis, with four companies from 
Fort Arbuckle, had also come up into this country 

103 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

on the same errand as us — huntin' the Kiowas — 
an' he'd had better luck, for he caught 'em up on 
the RepubHcan Fork an' had a nice little fight 
an' killed a whole lot of 'em. 

"I'm givin' you all this preamble to give you a 
clear idee of the situation that led up to the killing 
of Peacock. There was a slight split among the 
Kiowas durin' this war, for ol' To hausen — Little 
Mountain — their head chief, with a few of the 
cool-headed older warriors of the tribe, had re- 
fused to join Satank an' the hostiles in makin' war 
on the whites, an' To hausen, with his little band, 
had kept out o' the way for fear of bein' mistaken 
by us for the hostiles. But the biggest part of the 
tribe, under the leadership of Satank an' Satanta 
an' Big Tree, was a-doin' their level best to wipe 
out every white man, woman, an' child on the 
plains. 

"Satank was the recognized leader of the hos- 
tiles an' was always very bitter in his hatred of 
the whites. 

"As our two commands, Sturgis's an' Sedg- 
wick's, had kep' him on the jump purty lively 
durin' the summer, an' he'd got the worst of it all 
'round, 'long in the last of August or fore part of 
September, I think it was, Satank seemed to con- 
clude — as the time was soon coming when the 
Injun agent at Bent's Fort would be a-giving out 
the annuities that Uncle Sam sends out every fall 
to the peaceable Injuns — that he'd better make a 

104 



WHY SATANK KILLED PEACOCK 

treaty with Major Sedgwick for the winter, any- 
way, so's him an' his band could come in for their 
share of the presents. So he appHed to Peacock 
for a letter of recommendation to Major Sedgwick, 
thinkin' that a letter from such a prominent trader 
would help him to make easy terms with Sedgwick. 
'*Well, sir, right there's where Peacock made 
the blunder of his life, an' it cost him his life, 
too. Peacock was a pretty smart man an' was ac- 
quainted with nearly every Kiowa in the tribe, an' 
it's hard to understand how he could be so fool- 
ish as to do the way he did. But Satank an' his 
band had made him a heap o' trouble durin' this 
last outbreak, an' now Peacock thought he saw a 
chance to even up with his old enemy. So, instead 
of writin' a letter to Sedgwick askin' mild treat- 
ment an' makin' excuses for Satank an' his scalp- 
ers, he wrote one reading something like this: 

Major Sedgwick, 

Commanding Kiowa Expedition : 
The bearer of this is Satank, the leader of the hostile 
Kiowas and the instigator of all, and the actual per- 
petrator of many of the atrocious murders and outrages 
that have been committed on innocent men, women, 
and children on the plains during this last outbreak. 
He is, by long odds, the worst Indian on the plains, and 
you can't do the country a greater service than to kill 
him on sight. 

(Signed) Peacock. 

"Here was the unaccountable part of Peacock's 
folly. He certainly knew that that low-down rene- 

105 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

gade Englishman that they called * English Jim' 
was living among the Kiowas at this time; but Jim 
was a brute an' appeared to be so ignorant Pea- 
cock must have supposed either that the fellow 
would be unable to read writing or else that Sa- 
tank would never doubt the genuineness of his 
recommendation and would, therefore, take no 
steps to test it. But there's where the trader 
fooled himself. 

"The Kiowas were camped across the Arkansas, 
a few miles south from the ranch. Charley Rath 
an' his pardner, George Long, had just begun to 
build them a ranch-house here at the Bend, close 
to where we are now camped, an' could see the 
Kiowas passing back an' forth across the river. 

'*When Satank received the paper from Pea- 
cock he and a few men who was with him went 
straight back to their camp, give the document to 
'English Jim,' an' axed him to read it an' interpret 
it into Kiowa, which he did. 

'*As soon as Satank heard the purport of the 
paper an' understood the trick Peacock was trying 
to play him, he an' the same gang mounted their 
horses an' rode right back to Peacock's to settle 
the account. On reaching the ranch, as an excuse 
for their sudden return an' to keep Peacock from 
suspecting what he was up to, Satank an' his men 
never dismounted, but sat on their horses outside 
the gate an' called to Peacock in Mexican — the 
Kiowas an' Comanches can nearly all talk a little 

1 06 



WHY SATANK KILLED PEACOCK 

Mexican — says he to Peacock, says he, * Bring 
your spy-glass out an' look down the road an' 
see ef this is a lot of soldiers a-coming', — when 
there was no soldiers in sight nor anything that 
looked like 'em. 

"Never suspecting the trap that Satank had 
laid for him. Peacock come out with his long tele- 
scope an', resting it on the end of a log sticking 
out at the corner of the house, begun looking 
through it in the direction Satank pointed. 

"While busy tryirg to focus the glass on a little 
cloud of dust that Satank kept tryin' to point 
out to him, the ol' rascal put the muzzle of his 
rifle to the back of Peacock's head an' put a ball 
through his brains. While Satank dismounted to 
scalp Peacock his warriors rushed into the en- 
closure through the gate that Peacock had left 
open as he come out, an' it was such a complete 
surprise to the ranchmen that they were all soon 
killed 'cept the sick man I spoke of. They found 
him in bed but never offered to disturb him. I've 
known of Injuns, several times, a-sparing sick peo- 
ple thataway, but don't know why, unless they 
have a superstition ag'in harming sick folks. 

"When Rath an' Long, down here at the Bend, 
saw the Kiowas going back across the river, 
a-drivin' Peacock's herd, they begun to think 
something was wrong, so they got out their spy- 
glass, took a close look, an', although the Injuns 
was two or three miles away, could see that they 

107 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

had a lot of the ponies packed with what seemed 
to be some of Peacock's goods. This made 'em 
suspect that the Injuns had captured an' plun- 
dered the ranch, ef they hadn't killed Peacock an 
his men; so they dropped their work, mounted 
their horses, an' went a-flying up to Peacock's to 
see what was up, an' found all hands killed 'cept 
the sick man, an' he told 'em what Httle he'd seen 
an' heerd of the fracas, from where he lay in bed, 
not bein' able to get out, an' how after killing the 
other men the Injuns had ccme to the open door 
of the room where he lay helpless an' fully expect- 
ing to be murdered, an' how surprised an' glad he 
was when they turned away without disturbin' him. 
"Peacock had left no heirs on the place, an' 
there was no one in this part of the country that 
had any claim on it, so Rath an' Long decided to 
abandon the ranch they had just begun to build 
here at the Bend an' move up an' take possession 
of Peacock's place, jumping the claim, same as 
Peacock had done after Allison died. An' Rath 
is holding it yet, but George Long quit the busi- 
ness an' went back to the settlements — got scared 
out, I guess. Charley Rath — barring the everlast- 
ing danger from Injuns — has got a bully good lay- 
out in that Walnut Creek ranch, both for trade 
of the road an' for Injun trade, for there he gits 
part of the trade of Kiowas, Comanches, Chey- 
ennes, an' 'Rapahoes; but it's more directly in the 
Kiowa range than the others." 

io8 



WHY SATANK KILLED PEACOCK 

''Well, Tom/* I asked as the old man seemed 
to be at the end of his yarn, "as the Kiowas are 
now Uving under a treaty, do you think their 
friendship is to be depended on?'* 

"I wouldn't feel a bit uneasy in the neighbor- 
hood of ol' To hausen's band, for him an' his fol- 
lowers has kept faith with the whites right along, 
through all the late troubles. He's one of the few 
good Injuns. But his band is a small part of the 
tribe now though he used to be their head chief. 
Most of the Kiowas follow the lead of Satank now, 
an' you know Satank hates a white man as the 
devil hates holy water, an', although he may keep 
the peace for a while, it ain't to be depended on. 
I would never feel perfectly safe in the neighbor- 
hood of Satank's band. An' then Satanta an' Big 
Tree run with him, an' they're as bad as Satank." 

"What I was thinking of," I added, "is that the 
winter camp we're intending to estabhsh, north 
of Fort Larned, will be right in the range of the 
Kiowas, and if they should happen to find our 
layout in the course of the winter they might 
make trouble for us." 

"Well, we won't borry any trouble on that 
score. We knew there was a risk to run afore we 
undertook the expedition. When a man goes into 
the country of hostile or doubtful Injuns he takes 
his risk. But at this time of the year the chances 
are that we won't see any Injuns, 'cause they gen- 
erally hole up in as snug shelter as they can find 

109 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

in winter an' don't ramble about much. An' 
then, ag'in, we'll not be more'n twenty miles from 
Fort Larned, and they'd hardly dare to disturb us 
ef they should find our camp." 



no 



CHAPTER XI 
WE REACH FORT LARNED 

""VTOW, men,'* said old Tom as we gathered 
-*■ ^ around the mess box for breakfast next 
morning, "we want to get an early start for we've 
got a big drive before us. It's only about thirty- 
eight miles from here to Fort Earned, but that's 
too much to do with a load in one day; an' we 
can't divide the distance equally because there's 
no water anywhere nigh the half-way p'int. By 
takin' the river road we could get water to camp 
at the half-way station, but that route, by way of 
the mouth of Pawnee Fork, would take us four 
miles out of our way, an' part of it's a sandy, 
heavy road for the team. So I've concluded it'll 
be best for us to go the main road by Pawnee 
Rock an' camp at Ash Creek. That'll make 
about twenty-nine miles for to-day's drive, an' 
then we'll only have nine miles to-morrow mornin' 
to knock off to reach the fort. We can easy do 
that by the middle of the forenoon, an' have the 
rest of the day to look up some old acquaintances 
there an' make some inquiries about the best 
p'int over on Walnut to locate our winter camp 
an' how best to get there. Ef French Dave, the 

III 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

interpreter, is at Larned he'll tell us all we want 
to know about it. If Wild Bill was here, he'd go 
right along an' guide us to a snug place for our 
camp, 'cause he knows every foot o' the ground. 
It's all open prairie from Pawnee to Walnut, an' 
once we get across Pawnee Fork we can't miss it 
ef we just follow the buffalo trails." 

We rolled out from Big Bend by sunrise, made a 
short stop at Rath's ranch to renew old acquain- 
tance with Charley, and in the evening camped at 
the crossing of Ash Creek, a small stream with a 
little timber along its banks. 

We reached Fort Larned by ten o'clock next 
morning. I left Tom and Jack to inquire for mail, 
while I went to the adjutant's office to report our 
arrival and destination; after which I rejoined the 
outfit at the sutler's. 

*'Well, now, men," said old Tom, gathering up 
the mail matter and putting it away in the wagon, 
"we must first hunt a camp, an' then we can 
spend the rest of the day reading our papers an' 
letters an' rounding up old acquaintances about 
the garrison an' getting ready to go on to Walnut 
Creek in the mornin'. I'm told that we can get 
pretty good grass by crossin' the creek here an' 
going half a mile up on the other side. We'll go 
an' make camp an' eat dinner, an' then, leaving 
one man to take care o' camp, the others can come 
back and take in the garrison." 

A little crowd of idlers had gathered around our 

112 



WE REACH FORT LARNED 

team. A soldier volunteered to guide us to a good 
crossing and camp, and we soon had our animals 
turned out and tent pitched, and, while Tom and 
Jack were getting the dinner, at their request I 
overhauled first the letters and then the papers, 
reading to my comrades the most interesting 
items as I came to them. 

The papers and magazines were full of exciting 
and interesting news concerning the progress of 
the war, then just getting under good headway. 
Of letters we got but few, the most interesting of 
which to me was one from the girl I had left be- 
hind me and another from the old storekeeper 
and postmaster back at the camp where we had 
encountered the jayhawkers. 

The storekeeper informed us that no inquiry 
had been made for the black horse, and he did 
not think it likely that there would be as he had 
learned that Tucker and his gang had stolen many 
of their best horses from over the border in Mis- 
souri and the black horse was probably one of 
them. 

He also informed us that, following out the plan 
suggested by Tom, his neighbor had trailed the 
jayhawkers to their new camp down on the Neosho 
River, near Emporia; that a few days after we 
left a company of cavalry had arrived from Fort 
Leavenworth, in answer to the letter he had writ- 
ten to the commander of the department, looking 
for the gang of outlaws, and the man who had fol- 

113 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

lowed them and located their camp guided the 
soldiers to the jayhawkers' new layout, where the 
cavalrymen succeeded in surrounding and captur- 
ing the whole gang and taking them as prison- 
ers to Fort Leavenworth. 

"Well, who's going to mind camp, an' who's 
going over to the fort?" said Jack when dinner 
was over. 

** We'll draw straws for it," said Tom decisively. 
"Peck, you prepare the straws, two long ones an' 
a short one, an' the man who gets the short one 
stays." 

I did as directed. Tom and Jack drew the long 
straws, and I got left. 

"Well, rack out now, you fellows, and I'll have 
a good time reading the papers while you're gone," 
said I, trying to console myself for the lonesome 
afternoon I expected to have. 

But I was not left alone long, for presently a 
couple of strolling soldiers from the garrison 
dropped in, and we passed some time in exchang- 
ing information, I giving them the latest news 
from the settlements, and they telling the gossip of 
Fort Larned and vicinity. 

We had not been out of sight of herds of buffalo 
since we had entered the range till we crossed 
Pawnee Fork, but here, near the fort, where they 
had probably been hunted more than elsewhere, 
they were scarce, though this was about the centre 
of their range east and west. The soldiers said 

114 



WE REACH FORT EARNED 

that a few miles out in any direction we would 
find them numerous again. 

To my comrades and me the country about 
Fort Earned was familiar ground. As already 
stated, our company — K of the old First Cavalry, 
afterward changed to Fourth Cavalry — had built 
and occupied the original military post, called 
"Camp Alert," in the adjoining bend of the 
creek, below Fort Earned, in the fall of '59, when 
the Kiowas were on the war-path. During that 
winter we had been stationed there, escorting the 
Santa Fe mails and giving what protection we 
could to travel on the roads to New Mexico and 
the Pike's Peak gold region. By the following 
spring (i860), the War Department had ordered a 
permanent post established at or near "Camp 
Alert," to be called Fort Earned. This post was 
built by the two companies of Second Infantry 
that were sent to relieve us, while we, joining 
Major Sedgwick's command from Fort Riley, went 
on the Kiowa expedition. 

My two years of hard service along the Arkansas 
gave me an interest in everything that had hap- 
pened in this part of the country, and I kept my 
soldier visitors plied with questions about persons 
and events until the approach of sunset warned 
them to return to the post to prepare for dress 
parade. 

Tom and Jack remained at the garrison till after 
dress parade and then joined me in time for the 
supper which I had prepared. 

IIS 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

In narrating the results of his inquiries at the 
post Tom said: 

"As we had all been pretty well acquainted with 
Weisselbaum when he used to keep the little store 
in Ogden, near Fort Riley, before he got to be 
sutler of this post, I thought I would first call on 
him an' renew old acquaintance. When I tried 
to remind him who I was an' the many times I 
had been in his store at Ogden an' bought goods 
of him he couldn't remember me at all. An' 
then I asked him if he remembered Jack an' Peck, 
tellin' him that you was both here with me an' 
the object of our trip an' so forth, but he couldn't 
recall either of us an' looked at me kind of sus- 
picious like, as though he was afraid I was goin' 
to ask him to credit me for a plug of tobacco or 
something of that kind. 

**To set him straight on that point I called for 
a couple of cigars, an' in paying for 'em I managed 
to show several greenbacks, an', my, what a 
change come over his countenance when he saw 
that money! The sight of them greenbacks at 
once refreshed his recollection. 

"He suggested that we should leave our surplus 
money in his safe, and I believe it's a good scheme, 
for we'll have no use for money over on the Wal- 
nut, where we're going, an' we might lose it. Peck 
might go over to the store now, takin' Jack along 
for a witness, an' deposit our money with the sut- 
ler an' take a receipt for it; an' if we have occasion 

ii6 



WE REACH FORT LARNED 

to draw any of it out at any time it can be en- 
tered on the back of the receipt. Savvy?'' 

We *^ savvied" and agreed to Tom's plan. 

"Weisselbaum told me," continued the old man, 
*' where to find 'French Dave,' an' Dave told me 
that it's all plain sailing an' about twenty miles 
from here over to Walnut in the nearest direction, 
straight north; an' there'll be no rough ground 
to get over except the head of Ash Creek, an' 
there ain't much there. He says by bearin' a little 
to the west of north we'll miss the breaks of Ash 
Creek an' strike Walnut about the mouth of a 
little creek putting into Walnut from the south, 
where there's a snug place for a well-sheltered 
winter camp, with timber on the north an' west; 
an' I think that's just about the kind of a layout 
we want to find." 

"What does Dave say about the Kiowas.^" I 
asked. 

"He says they're peaceable so far, *but always 
keep your eye skinned,' sez he, 'whenever Satank 
or Satanta, with their bands, come around.' But 
of course we knew that." 

Jack and I hurried over to the sutler's store, 
where we were very affably received by Weissel- 
baum, who shook us warmly by the hands and 
now had no difficulty in remembering us. We 
made our deposit, took his receipt, and returned 
to camp. After reporting to Tom the result of 
our trip, Jack remarked: 

117 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

"Well, I don't know of any surer winnin' game 
than a post sutler's job. It'll beat four aces an' 
a six-shooter." 

" Right you are, my lad," chipped in Tom. " It's 
a sure shot — dead open an' shut. Better'n a gold- 
mine, for there's little risk an' small loss compared 
with the profits; for the post sutler on the frontier 
just rakes in the money of officers, soldiers, citi- 
zens, Injuns, an' everybody. Besides havin' a 
monopoly of all trade on the post reservation, he 
generally has the inside track on forage contracts 
an' the like." 

"Do you mind old Rich, the sutler at Fort 
Leavenworth?" asked Jack, "an' the dead oodles 
of money he rakes in all the time? An' he's been 
sutler there so long, too, he must be as rich as the 
Rothschilds. A queer duck is old Rich," he con- 
tinued reflectively, "or * Kernel' Rich, I should 
have said, for when you call him 'Kernel,' 'spe- 
cially if you salute him along with it, it pleases 
him all over an' raises his opinion of himself about 
five hundred per cent." 

"Yes," replied Tom, "I remember one time 
when several of us soldiers were a-standing around 
old Rich's store door, an' among the lot was Bob 
Chambers, of F Company. You know Bob al- 
ways had his cheek with him. Well, while we 
were a-talking. Bill Shutts come out of the store 
a-grumbling an' a-cussing. 'What's the matter, 
Shutts?' asked Bob. *Why, I'm expectin' a let- 

ii8 



WE REACH FORT LARNED 

ter from home/ says Bill, *an' when I asked that 
old galoot if there was a letter for me, the old fel- 
low wouldn't look — never even asked me my name 
— but just says, crabbed like, says he: 'No, nothin' 
for you/, *Now,' says Bill, Til bet two dollars 
an' sixty-five cents that there's a letter in there 
right now for William Shutts, Esquire, from Dres- 
den, O., but I can't get it.' 

"'Why, man,' says Bob Chambers, 'where've 
you been all this time that you ain't got acquainted 
with that estimable old gentleman. Kernel Rich? 
You ain't onto the combination, that's all. Now, 
I'll bet you the drinks for the crowd, down at old 
mother Bangs's, that I'll go in the store an' ask 
the kernel for a letter, an' although I ain't ex- 
pecting one, an' would be surprised if I got one, 
the old kernel'll rush flying 'round behind the 
counter a-trying to find me a letter. Now, lemme 
show you how it's done,' sez Bob, a-buttonin' up 
his jacket an' a-cockin' his fatigue cap up on 
three hairs. 

"We all followed him into the store to see the 
performance. The old kernel was pacin' the floor. 
By a 'left-front-into-line' movement Bob swung 
himself into position in front of the kernel, halted, 
come to 'attention,' bringing his heels together 
with a crack, an' raised his right hand to the peak 
of his cap as he asked: 'Kernel, is there any letter 
in the ofl&ce for me, sir.?' 

"Well, say — you ought to have seen the smile 

119 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

that come over old Rich's phiz as he fell all over 
himself getting 'round behind the counter, asking 
as he went: * What's the name, my man?' * Rob- 
ert Chambers, of F Company, sir,' says Bob, still 
standing to * attention.' 

"Well, sir, the old kernel shuffled those letters 
over two or three times a-tryin' his level best to 
dig up one for Chambers, an' seemed awfully sorry 
when he had to say, as he put them back in the 
pigeonhole: *No, nothing for you to-day. Cham- 
bers.' An' he was so sorry to disappoint Bob that 
he reached over on the shelf an' handed out a plug 
of tobacco, as he added, sort of regretful-like: 
*But there's some of the best navy tobacco you 
ever smacked your lips over.' *No doubt of it, 
kernel, for when you recommend a thing it's bound 
to be first class, but unfortunately I'm dead broke,' 
says Chambers. 'Oh, take it along,' says the old 
man, as he pushed the plug across the counter; 
*you can hand me the money next pay-day.' An' 
he was so pleased with Bob's blarney that he 
never even chalked it down to him; an' I'm dead 
sure that Chambers didn't remind him of it when 
pay-day come, for Bob wasn't built that way. 

"As we started out of the store. Bob says over 
his shoulder like for old Rich to hear, * Kernel 
Rich is one of the finest old gentlemen I ever 
knew.' 

"When we got outside the store door again. Bill 
Shutts remarked, as he gazed at Chambers in 

120 



WE REACH FORT LARNED 

honest admiration *WelI, old pard, if I had your 
cheek I'd never work another hck.' 'It^s all done 
by a slight turn of the wrist, as the magician says/ 
said Bob; 'anybody can do it that knows how. 
Now, let me tell you how to get that letter of 
yours. Just go over to the quarters an' wash your 
face an' hands for a disguise, black your boots, but- 
ton up your jacket, brace up, an' look brave; and 
then go back to the store — by that time the old 
man's forgot you ever asked for a letter — then ex- 
ecute a flank movement on him, like I did; be 
sure to salute an' call him kernel, an' you'll get a 
letter if he has to write you one.' 

"An' by following Bob's advice Bill got his let- 
ter; an' it tickled him so't he called us together, 
an' we went down to old mother Bangs's, an' he 
set up the drinks on it, 'cause he said that trick 
that Bob learnt him was worth a whole lot, if not 
more." 



121 



CHAPTER XII 
OUR CAMP ON WALNUT CREEK 

^^[EXT morning at breakfast I said : 
-^ ^ **How was it, Tom, that when we were buy- 
ing our outfit at Leavenworth we forgot to get 
a compass? That is a pretty useful thing in trav- 
elHng across the prairie, where there is no road or 
trail to follow?" 

"Well," repHed Tom, "it would be handy to 
have a compass, but we haven't got one and so 
we'll have to do the next best thing, and thank the 
Lord I have a good watch to run our course by." 

"What!" I exclaimed. "Do you mean that you 
can tell the points of the compass by a watch?" 
And Jack chimed in: "I never heard of the like." 

"If you live long enough, young fellows, you 
may find out that there are some other things 
you never heard of. Look here, I'll explain to 
you how it's done," and Tom pulled his big sil- 
ver watch out of his pocket, opened it, and put 
it on the table. 

"You turn the watch so that the hour-hand 
points to the sun; then measure just half-way to 
the figure twelve on the dial in the shortest direc- 
tion, and that will be south. Of course, the oppo- 

122 



OUR CAMP ON WALNUT CREEK 

site point will be north, and you can tell east or 
west. 

"If you get it firmly fixed in your mind that, 
with the hour-hand of a watch pointing to the 
sun, half-way between that and the figure twelve 
in the shortest direction on the dial is south, you 
can always get the points of the compass when 
the sun is shining." 

''Whoever taught you that watch trick, Tom?" 
I asked. 

"First Lieutenant James E. B. Stuart, late of 
G Company, First Cavalry, and now an officer in 
the rebel army, learnt me that once when I was 
out on a scout with him in the mountains and we 
got lost," answered Tom. "It was cloudy and we 
wandered about in every direction except the right 
one, as lost men will do. After a while the sun 
came out for a little while and I saw Jeb halt, 
take out his watch, and look at the sun. Then he 
said: 'Now, I have got it. The trail is off in this 
direction,' pointing with his right hand, while he 
held the watch in the left. Then he called to me: 
'Come here, sergeant, and I will show you how to 
tell north and south by a watch. It may be use- 
ful to you some day.' And then he explained it 
to me, and many's the time it has been useful." 

By the time we had everything packed I'-p 
after breakfast and the team strung out, th 
sun was up and we started north. 

We ran a fairly straight line, bearing a little to 

123 



OUR CAMP ON WALNUT CREEK 

the west, to the head of Ash Creek, which we 
found here to be only a prairie hollow destitute 
of water and timber. Before reaching Ash Creek 
we had begun to see plenty of buffalo in every 
direction except toward Fort Larned. 

On reaching the high prairie north of Ash Creek 
we could see away to the north the distant line 
of timber that marked the course of Walnut 
Creek. A heavy body of timber was seen right 
ahead, and in line with our course, that Tom 
rightly conjectured was at the mouth of the little 
creek emptying into the Walnut, where French 
Dave had told him we would find a suitable loca- 
tion for a winter camp. Toward this we directed 
our course. 

It was but little past noon when we reached 
the edge of the timber near the junction of the 
little branch and Walnut Creek, and we found 
here an ideal spot for our purpose — a snug camp 
and good hunting and trapping ground. 

"We'll camp here for the night," said Tom as 
he dismounted, **an' to-morrow we'll look the 
neighborhood over thoroughly an' decide where 
to pitch our permanent layout." 

As we had found no water on the road we had 
made this drive from Pawnee Fork without our 
usual halt for noon and decided to have our din- 
ner and supper in one about the middle of the 
afternoon. After turning out the stock, bringing 
wood and water, and pitching the tent, while 

125 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

Tom was preparing the meal, Jack and I sepa- 
rately rambled off to do a little exploring of our 
immediate neighborhood. In doing so I found a 
prairie ravine, not far from our camp, in which 
there was considerable standing water at a dis- 
tance of about three hundred yards from the tim- 
ber on Walnut Creek. I wondered at this water, 
but on following the ravine down to the creek I 
discovered a beaver dam built across the creek, 
in which a number of the dome-shaped huts were 
standing, and saw other evidences of the presence 
of a populous colony of these industrious animals. 
The water I had seen up the ravine was back- 
water caused by the dam. 

At Tom's call of "grub pile" I hurried back to 
camp to acquaint my comrades with my dis- 
covery, only to learn that Jack had found the 
beaver dam before I had and, having rushed back 
to the wagon, was now busy getting out our steel 
traps preparatory to setting them for beaver. 

As we sat around the mess-chest eating, Tom, 
between mouthfuls, explained his ideas about the 
establishing of our winter camp. 

"This big timber here is in the right place to 
shelter us from the northwest winds. We must 
also remember that weVe got to protect ourselves 
and stock against a surprise by hostile Injuns. I 
ain't looking for trouble of that kind, but it's 
always best to be prepared for such emergencies. 
So I think it'll be best to move out to the bank 

126 



OUR CAMP ON WALNUT CREEK 

of that ravine Peck spoke about, say two or three 
hundred yards from the timber, which will still 
furnish us good protection from the northwesters. 
In case of hostilities the water in the ravine can't 
be cut ofF from us. Into the banks of that ravine 
we'll dig our dugouts — one for ourselves, on one 
side, and a stable for the stock on the other side, 
opposite and facing each other. We'll cut and 
split some slabs in the timber and lay a sort of 
a floor across the ravine, for a gangway, and it'll 
be as handy as a pocket in a shirt. 

"Now, Peck, while Jack goes to set his traps 
for beaver, suppose you saddle up Black Prince 
and go out and kill a buffalo calf or yearling and 
bring in a quarter or so of fresh meat. And, as 
there's plenty of time yet before night, while 
you're at it you may as well make a complete 
circuit of the camp, say about a mile or two out, 
and see if there's anybody or any sign of anybody 
in this neighborhood besides ourselves." 

"Tom," I said, "I beheve it would be better 
for me to go out and kill a yearling first and bring 
in some meat and then take a ride around the 
country afterward; for if I kill the yearling first 
and leave the carcass till I make the circuit of the 
camp the wolves will get away with the meat 
before I get back to it; and if I make the round 
first before killing our meat I'll be scaring all 
the near buffalo away." 

"You're right," replied the old man; "do as 

127 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

you say. rm glad to see that you do a little 
thinking of your own once in a while." 

''And I believe I can kill two birds with one 
stone," I continued, "by taking some strychnine 
along and baiting the remains of the yearling 
after I cut off the hind quarters, and in the morn- 
ing I'll have a few coyotes to skin to give us a 
start in business." 

"That's a good idea, too; but don't fool away 
too much time, for I want you to make that round 
of the neighborhood before night." 

As I got our package of strychnine out of the 
wagon, opened it, and took out one of the phials 
to put in my pocket, Tom suggested: 

"You'd better open that bottle here an' put 
in a little water to dissolve the crystals; you'll 
find it's easier to handle in liquid than in crystals, 
and also more savin'," 

Tom's suggestion was a good one and I did as 
he advised. Then hanging the hatchet and field- 
glass to my saddle, I mounted and rode away. 

Crossing the creek just below the beaver dam, 
where Jack was already looking out locations for 
his traps, I rode through the timber to look for 
the most convenient band of buffalo, and espied 
one that suited my purpose about a mile down 
the prairie bottom, strung out in single file on the 
trail, coming in to the creek for water. 

Recrossing the creek so as to keep out of their 
sight behind the timber, I rode down to a point 

128 . 



OUR CAMP ON WALNUT CREEK 

that would intercept them and prepared to await 
my game. The place I had chosen to wait for 
them was an old buffalo crossing, the converging 
trails, deeply worn in the banks on either side, 
showing that it was much used. They would have 
to pass me here, and, again recrossing the creek 
to the north side, I rode down into the timber, 
tied my horse behind some bushes, and returned 
afoot to the crossing, being careful not to give the 
buffalo my wind. 

Soon they passed me, went on down, drank, and 
climbed the hills on the other side of the stream. 
As the young cattle filed past me I selected a 
yearling and, as he came opposite, shot him, and 
he dropped dead in the trail. The rest gave a 
jump or two and went on. I cut off the hind quar- 
ters and with some trouble put them on Prince. 

Then stripping back the skin from the fore 
quarters, I applied my solution of strychnine, a 
few drops here and there over the meat and en- 
trails, and left them for wolf bait. 

Having left my meat at camp, I rode away on 
my scout, reaching camp again about sunset. 

Just after we finished supper the howling of 
a pack of coyotes — which we seldom noticed — 
prompted me to exclaim: 

"Make the most of your time, my lads, for if 
you happen to scent that bait I put out for you 
I'll be skinning some of you in the morning." 

The howling and barking of wolves was such 

129 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

familiar music to us that it seldom provoked re- 
mark, for we had scarcely passed a night since 
entering the buffalo range that we had not been 
serenaded by the shrill, discordant notes of the 
coyote, varied occasionally by the deeper bass of 
the big, gray buffalo wolves, or "lobos," as the 
Mexicans call them. 

Next morning Jack and I hurried through the 
work of watering and changing the animals to 
fresh grass, while Tom prepared breakfast. We 
were impatient to be off, and after the meal, tak- 
ing our rifles in addition to revolvers, we started 
out to our respective tasks. Jack afoot and I on 
Black Prince. 

As I approached my wolf baits I disturbed a 
couple of coyotes — probably late comers that had 
but recently found the carcass, for they certainly 
gave no evidence of the effects of strychnine as 
they loped off on the prairie a little way and there 
sat on their haunches licking their chops and 
watching me as though reluctant to leave their 
feast. 

I tied Prince a few rods away from the bait, of 
which but little remained, while I walked about 
through the tall grass, looking up the dead wolves, 
three of which I noticed lying by the bait before 
dismounting. On looking about I found five more, 
at varying distances from the carcass, none of 
them more than a hundred yards away. Some of 
them were still warm. 

130 



OUR CAMP ON WALNUT CREEK 

I put down the rifle, drew my knife, and went 
to work. Having had considerable experience in 
skinning wolves, I was quite expert at it and soon 
had the eight pelts stripped off the dead coyotes 
and rolled up together ready for tying on behind 
my saddle. 

The process of skinning was simple. I turned 
the wolf on his back and with the point of my 
knife split the skin from the point of the chin 
down the throat and belly to the root of the tail; 
then spHt the inside of each leg from the foot to 
an intersection of the first, or belly cut; then 
stripped back the skin from belly, legs, and sides. 
The tail was then slipped off the bone whole, with- 
out spHtting, in this way: strip the skin of the tail 
away from the bone for about an inch at the root; 
then slip a split stick over the bone, take an end 
of the stick in each hand, clamping the bone 
tightly, and give a jerk toward the end of the 
tail. The bone shps out of its skin as if it were 
greased. 

When it came to tying the skins on behind the 
saddle. Prince objected very strongly, and I was 
compelled to bhndfold him before I could accom- 
plish the job. After I had mounted. Prince was 
still nervous, but by coaxing and talking kindly 
to him I soon got him reconciled to carrying the 
burden. 

When I reached camp I found Jack jubilating 
over three fine beavers which he had carried up 

131 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

from the creek. He was grumbling because he 
had not put out more traps. 

"Time enough," said Tom consolingly. *'WeVe 
now found out that there's plenty of 'em there and 
can wait awhile. Their fur'U be getting heavier 
an' better all the time.'' 

He and Jack were finishing skinning the third 
one as I dismounted and threw down my batch 
of coyote pelts. 

'*How many did you get?" asked Jack. 

"Only eight," I replied. "If I'd had time to 
have killed and poisoned three or four buffalo in 
different directions out around camp I'd 'a' got as 
many as the horse could carry." 

"Time enough for the wolves, too, by and by," 
said Tom. 

"Now, men," said Tom after we had discussed 
beaver and how to catch them, "while you were 
out I went over to the ravine and found a good 
place for our dugouts and measured and staked 
off the ground where we'll dig 'em. After dinner 
we can move camp over there close to the work. 
And while I'm getting the grub ready you two 
can water the horses and mules and be a-making 
a lot of little pins to peg your skins down to dry." 

After dinner we moved camp close to the bank 
of the ravine, where Tom had marked out the 
ground for our winter quarters. On the opposite 
bank he had staked out a site for a larger dugout 
for a stable. The ravine here was narrow, and 

132 



OUR CAMP ON WALNUT CREEK 

by a good jump we could clear the water that 
occupied its bottom. On top of the banks the 
ground for some distance around was smooth 
and level, bearing no other vegetation but the 
short, nutritious bufFalo-grass. 

Pitching our tent in a convenient place for our 
work, we turned out the stock, picketing the gray 
mare and Prince. Tom was to ride the "buck- 
skin" bronco to look for a hay-field. 

Jack and I soon had our coyote and beaver pelts 
stretched and pegged down on a smooth piece of 
ground. 

"I'll try to get back," said Tom as he mounted 
Vinegar, "in time for you men to go and put out 
your baits for the night; and in the meantime, 
while you're resting, you may as well get out the 
pick and shovel and turn yourselves loose on them 
dugouts, just to see if you've forgot how to work. 
You'd better begin on the horses' stable and we'll 
try to finish that up first, for if a "norther" should 
catch us the stock'd be in a bad fix for shelter, 
while our tent'd shelter us, all right." 

In a couple of hours Tom returned, reporting 
that he had found, in a bend of the creek just 
below us, a large bottom that would aiFord us all 
the hay we would want. 

"Now, men," he said as he unsaddled and 
turned out the bronco, "we've got lots to do 
that's pressing us, and, as the wolf poisoning and 
beaver trapping ain't pressing and won't suffer 

133 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

any loss by waiting a few days, I've been thinking 
that we'd better let the pelts go for a while and 
put in all our time at haymaking and digging till 
we get everything made snug for cold weather." 

Tom's suggestion seemed so reasonable that we 
agreed with him and decided to let the pelts alone 
for a while. 

Tom got his scythe out of the wagon and 
"hung" it and then went down to the timber to 
make a couple of wooden hay-forks. When he 
had returned from the timber with his wooden 
forks he remarked as he sat down and began 
whittling the prongs to points and otherwise 
smoothing them up with his knife: 

"While I was at it I cut a lot of poles for a hay 
frame to put on top of the wagon-box to haul 
hay on; and I also cut some poles to lay on the 
ground under our freight when we unload the 
wagon." 

Later in the day we unloaded the wagon, piling 
the contents on the poles inside the sideboards, 
which we had taken ofF together, leaving the 
bows on them. After the goods were thus piled 
up the wagon-sheet was stretched over the bows 
and securely tied down' and the load was thus 
protected from the weather. 

Tired and very hungry after our hard day's 
work, we devoured our supper and, after agreeing 
to devote the next day to digging and haymaking, 
were soon sound asleep. 

134 



OUR CAMP ON WALNUT CREEK 

After breakfast next morning Tom shouldered 
the scythe and his rifle and set out for the hay- 
field. 

When we had cleared away the breakfast 
dishes Jack chose the pick-and-shovel work and 
was soon making the dirt fly out of the hole on 
the other side of the ravine, while I set to making 
a hay frame of crossed poles on top of the wagon- 
box, notched and lashed together and held in 
place by strips of rawhide cut from the skin on 
the yearhng buffalo quarters. Now and then 
on the still morning air, although about a mile 
away, we could hear the **whick-whack" as Tom 
whetted his scythe. 

At nine o'clock Jack went to the hay-field to 
help Tom, while I put on the dinner, to which I 
called them by flag at noon. In the afternoon 
they returned to their haymaking, and by eve- 
ning they had a nice lot of hay in cocks which 
would do to haul and stack next day. After fin- 
ishing the hay frame I worked at digging in the 
dugout. 

Buffalo were to be seen on the prairie all about 
us, and now and then a few antelope made their 
appearance, but we were too busy to spare the 
time to go out and kill any. Flocks of water- 
fowl — wild geese, brants, ducks, and sand-hill 
cranes — were seen and heard flying over and 
sometimes alighted in the pond formed by the 
beaver dam, and also seemed to come down at a 

135 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

point several miles down the creek, which indi- 
cated that there was a body of water there. 

In the evening when the men had returned 
from the hay-field we all stood for a while looking 
down the valley and remarking on the appearance 
of civilization imparted to the scene by the distant 
flat dotted over with cocks of hay. But in the 
morning at daylight, on again looking in that di- 
rection, we were filled with indignation to see that 
during the night a herd of buffalo had preempted 
our hay-field and had trampled, horned, and scat- 
tered all the nice cocks in every direction, and 
were now bedded on the ground, probably chewing 
their cuds in total indifference to our rights after 
almost destroying the previous day's work of our 
haymakers. 

**ril make wolf bait of one of 'em for spite, so 
I will," said Jack as he seized a rifle and started 
down the hollow to get a shot. 

"Don't kill more'n one. Jack, just enough to 
scare them off," suggested Tom as the irate Irish- 
man sneaked off down the ravine, "for we don't 
want our hay ground littered up with dead buffalo 
and dead wolf carcasses." 

For some minutes Tom and I stood watching 
the buffalo to see what the Irishman would do for 
them. They were all lying down in apparent per- 
fect contentment except one large bull. We kept 
our eyes on the big bull and after a time saw the 
huge beast drop, and immediately afterward the 

136 



OUR CAMP ON WALNUT CREEK 

report of the rifle reached our ears. The rest of 
the buffalo jumped to their feet in alarm at the 
sound of the shot, but, instead of running away, 
stood staring at the timber from whence Jack had 
fired; and had he desired to do so he could prob- 
ably have remained in concealment and shot 
several more, for the buffalo do not readily take 
the hint of danger till they can see the enemy. 
Presently we saw the herd stampede, and at the 
same time our Irishman made his appearance, 
running out of the timber shouting and firing 
another shot over them to give them a good scare. 

"Our hay's ruined entirely," he said as he put 
away his rifle and sat down to breakfast, ''scat- 
tered all about and tramped over. Even what we 
left in the windrows is all horned and tossed about. 
We may be able to rake up some of it, but it'll 
be hardly worth the effort. But I took me satis- 
faction out of that big fellow — I got a good broad- 
side shot at him and must have shot him through 
the heart, for he dropped in his tracks. Peck had 
better go down there this evening and put some 
poison on the carcass, and be taking a few wolf 
pelts, too, while we're a-haymaking." 

"Well," said Tom, "we'll have to stand these 
night-prowling buffalo off some way, and I think 
the best way will be for Peck to mount one of the 
horses just before night and ride 'round the neigh- 
borhood and drive off any herds that seem to be 
heading toward our hay-field. I wouldn't kill 

137 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

any more of them at present, for we can't spare 
the time to do much wolf skinning, but just stam- 
pede them and stand them off for a few days till 
we get our hay cut and hauled; then you may go 
for them, and the wolves, too. We don't often 
have occasion to take the hide ofF a buffalo, but 
I've been thinking it would be a good scheme to 
skin a few of the first ones we kill till we get hides 
enough to lay over the timbers on top of our dug- 
outs before we throw the dirt on, to keep the fine 
dirt from sifting down on the inside; so. Peck, 
you may as well take the hide off this one and 
bring it up to camp when you go down there to 
poison the meat for wolf bait. 

** While Jack and I are mowing to-day you can 
look out a suitable place along up the ravine here 
above camp where we can make a crossing, and 
dig down the banks a little, throwing the dirt into 
the hollow so's we can cross the wagon over; and 
while we're hauling hay we'll just leave the wagon 
over on the other side of the draw. We'll stack 
the hay, as we haul it, on the bank, close up to 
the stable so's it'll be handy. 

"And, mind you, that at no time and under no 
circumstances must the camp guard leave camp." 

"Have you seen any fresh signs, Tom, that 
make you think there's Indians about?" I asked. 

"Not a thing, but I want to keep you 'minded 
with the idea that in this country * eternal vigi- 
lance is the price of life, liberty, and the pursuit 

138 




tC3 



b^ 






THE WOLF HUNTERS 

of happiness/ as the Bible says. We know how 
tricky Injuns are, and, although weVe seen no 
fresh signs, a prowling party is likely to drop onto 
us any time; and just think what a fix we'd be in 
if they should happen to get into our camp and all 
hands away. How completely they'd have the 
drop on us! Fm not scared of them, nor trying 
to scare you, but we've got to keep our eyes 
peeled and be prepared all the time." 

"All right," I replied with an air of more con- 
fidence than I really felt, *'I guess Found and I 
will be able to take care of camp." 

"Of course," continued Tom reassuringly, "all 
Injuns ain't hostile, but we've got to keep on the 
safe side; and if a party of them approaches our 
camp at any time, even if they profess to be 
friendly, we must stand them ofF and never allow 
more than a few — ^just what we feel sure we can 
handle — to come into camp at a time; and even 
then, always keep your eyes on them and your 
arms and cartridges handy." 

Leaving me with these cheerful subjects for 
thought, the two men proceeded to their work. 

After they left I moved our horses and mules 
across the ravine where the dog and I could guard 
them on one side, while on the other the two hay- 
makers would be some protection. During the 
forenoon I worked at the banks of the gulch, a 
little above our tent, to make a crossing for the 
wagon. 

140 



OUR CAMP ON WALNUT CREEK 

In searching for the place for a crossing for the 
wagon I discovered a Httle spring of water trick- 
ling out of the bank a few steps above our dug- 
outs. It was only a weak vein, but by digging a 
pit under it, in which we planted an empty barrel, 
we made a reservoir that furnished us an abun- 
dance of good water. 

The discovery and improvement of this little 
spring made our camp an ideal one. At first we 
had expected to use backwater from the beaver 
dam, but we soon realized that the trash from our 
camp might render this water unfit for drinking 
and cooking; and but for finding the spring we 
should have been obliged to carry water from the 
creek, which would have been laborious and in- 
convenient. 

When an occasional rain or melting snow flushed 
out the trash in the ravine we could use that water 
for our stock for a few days, but at other times 
we watered them at the creek. 

I felt more confidence in the protection aflPorded 
by our shepherd dog than in all the measures we 
were taking for the safety of our outfit. With the 
natural instinct of his breed. Found spent most 
of his time out with the stock, always selecting a 
position on some elevation between our animals 
and camp where he could see all that was going 
on in our neighborhood; and I was satisfied that 
neither friend nor foe could approach without his 
giving notice. 

141 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

At noon when the men came in to dinner they 
reported that they had raked up a good load of the 
hay that had been scattered, and in the afternoon 
they took the mules and wagon with them and 
Tom brought the first load to camp on returning 
in the evening, while Jack remained and began 
skinning the dead buffalo. When I joined him 
we soon stripped the hide off, applied the strych- 
nine to the carcass, and left it for the wolves. 

"First come, first served, will be the rule here 
to-night," I remarked as we started to camp. 
*'The first wolves to reach the bait will probably 
get laid out before they have time to get half 
a feed, while those that come later may not get 
strychnine enough to give them a bellyache.'* 

**How many do you expect to find in the morn- 
ing?" asked Jack. 

"Oh, about eight or ten for the first night will 
be a pretty fair haul; but by to-morrow night I'll 
poison the bait again, and by that time it ought 
to catch more — maybe as many as twelve or fif- 
teen — for the scent of the dead buffalo will then 
attract them from a greater distance." 

I did even better than I anticipated, for next 
morning I found thirteen dead wolves lying around 
the bait awaiting my skinning knife. Jack re- 
mained in camp until I had skinned the wolves, 
brought in the pelts and pegged them down to 
dry, after which he took the team and went out 
to the hay-field where Tom was mowing. 

142 



OUR CAMP ON WALNUT CREEK 

The dead buffalo only lasted for three nights' 
baiting, by which time I had taken nearly fifty 
pelts, some big gray wolves but mostly coyotes and 
little yellow foxes. We killed no more buffalo for 
wolf baits until the more important work was done. 

Our haymakers were now making a good show- 
ing, bringing in and stacking a load at noon and 
another at night, and in a week we had stacked 
as much hay as we should need. 

While doing duty as camp guard, I had put in 
all my spare time throwing dirt out of our stable 
dugout and had the excavation about completed. 
While Jack and I were doing a little trimming up 
inside and cutting a doorway through the wall of 
dirt on the side next the ravine, Tom had gone 
into the timber and cut and split a lot of poles 
and slabs to support the roof of dirt. 

First putting a small log, twenty-four feet long, 
on the brink of each side of the excavation, to 
serve as "plates" to rest the roof timbers on, we 
then laid twelve-foot slabs and poles across from 
side to side, as closely as they would fit, covering 
the larger crevices with brush. 

*'Now," said Tom, stepping back to take an 
observation of our work when we had reached 
this point, '^ef we had buffalo-skins enough to 
cover it, to keep the fine dirt from sifting through, 
we'd be ready to go to throwing the dirt on an' 
soon have the horses' stable finished up so's we 
could go to work on our own quarters." 

143 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

''Well, we can soon get them," I replied. "In 
the morning Jack and I will go out and kill a few 
buffalo and bring in the hides, and by to-morrow 
night we can have this dugout about completed/' 

Next morning the Irishman and I saddled up 
and started out to secure the hides. We could 
have killed what we needed out of the first band 
we struck, but, as I wished to use the carcasses 
for wolf baits, we decided to distribute the baits 
at different points about the camp and not less 
than a mile from it. 

We killed and skinned six bulls, making a com- 
plete circuit of our camp, and by noon had re- 
turned with the hides. 

After dinner we spread enough of them over the 
roof timbers to completely cover them and then 
set to work shovelling on the dirt, making quite 
a mound of it. This finished our stable, except 
for the mangers and feed-boxes inside and making 
a door of some kind to close up the opening we 
had cut through the bank. This last Tom made 
next day by a frame of poles on which was tacked 
a buffalo-hide. This door was hung on rawhide 
hinges. 

"Now, men," said the old man as we topped 
out the dirt roof and smoothed it up, "we've a 
snug shelter here for our stock in case of need, 
but, of course, we won't put 'em into it till we 
have to. As long as it's fair they'll do better out 
on the buffalo-grass, as they've been doing. Our 

144 



OUR CAMP ON WALNUT CREEK 

stable, hay, an' grain will be our reserve for 
stormy weather or when the grass is covered with 
snow. We must still work hard till we get our 
own winter quarters finished up, an' then let the 
weather turn loose — we'll be ready for it." 

Toward evening I made the round of the buffalo 
carcasses and poisoned them for the night's catch 
of wolves. 

As we gathered around the supper table in the 
evening I suggested : 

"As I expect a big job of wolf skinning in the 
morning, I guess I'll need help, and maybe I had 
as well take Jack along with me and be breaking 
him in." 

**A11 right," replied the Irishman, "if Tom says 
so, I'm your huckleberry. How many skins are 
you going to get this haul?" 

"Well, I don't know, but, putting it low, I ought 
to find at least five or six around each bait, and 
maybe twice that many, so you see, skinning, 
bringing in, and pegging down thirty-five or forty 
wolf pelts is no small job." 

"Well, it'll take the two of you the whole fore- 
noon," said Tom ruefully, "but the wolfskins 
must be taken care of — that's what we're here for. 
Still, I'm mighty anxious to get the other dugout 
done, so I guess you'd better not kill any more 
buffalo for bait unless we need some more of their 
skins to cover our dugout. These six will keep 
you a-poisoning and a-skinning for at least three 

145 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

or four days to come, and all of that time there'll 
not be much done on the dugout, for part of my 
time'Il be taken up doing the cooking an' camp 
work. But go ahead with your wolf killing, for 
every pelt cured is as good as six bits or a dollar 
in pocket at the least calculation." 

After an early breakfast next morning Jack 
and I mounted and started. We found fully as 
big a job as I had anticipated, for the night's 
catch yielded us over fifty wolfskins. It took us 
most of the morning, brisk work, to get them all 
gathered in, and our horses were so well loaded 
with the hides that we had to walk and lead them 
back to camp. Jack proved an apt pupil at wolf 
skinning and soon could snatch a hide ofF as 
quickly as I. 

When we reached camp with our loads we found 
that Tom, with his usual foresight, had whittled 
us out a good lot of pegs, which greatly assisted 
us in disposing of the pelts, and we soon had them 
stretched and pegged down, flesh side up, on a 
smooth piece of ground near the tent where we 
had already started a drying yard. 

Each evening, while there was anything left 
for a wolf bait of the buffalo we had recently 
killed, I made the round, poisoning the flesh, and 
next morning Jack and I visited the baits, skinned 
the dead wolves, brought in the pelts, and pegged 
them down. This generally "spoiled" the fore- 
noon, while the afternoon would be spent in dig- 

146 



OUR CAMP ON WALNUT CREEK 

ging our dugout; but, as our winter quarters were 
to be only about half the size of the stable, we 
soon had the new excavation finished. 

After putting the roof timbers on our dugout 
we placed the stove in its corner, put on the extra 
joints of pipe provided for the purpose, extending 
it up through an opening in the slabs, and plas- 
tered a lot of mud around the pipe to prevent it 
setting fire to the timbers. Then spreading buf- 
falo-hides over the timbers, we heaped up the 
earth on it, as we had on the other one, and our 
winter residence was ready for its furniture and 
tenants. 

Our ten-foot-square room was rather cramped 
quarters to hold us and all that we had designed 
to put in it, and we found it necessary still to use 
the tent to store such of our plunder as would not 
need protection from the cold. 

Without giving any reason, Tom insisted on 
moving the tent up as close against the rear side 
of the pile of dirt that constituted the roof of our 
dugout as we could get it. I suspected then that 
this was one of his strategic plans, and a few days 
later my surmise was verified when we found him 
at work digging a tunnel from the dugout room 
to the centre of the tent. By this underground 
connection we could go from one place to the other 
without being exposed and, if necessary, could 
use the tent as a lookout station. 

On the evening that we moved into the dugout, 

147 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

as we sat down to our first meal in winter quar- 
ters, Tom remarked with evident satisfaction: 

"Now, men, we've got things in shape so 
that we're ready for a cold snap, snow-storm, or 
norther ef one chances to come this way. From 
now on we can take it easier. There will be a lot 
of trimming an' tidying up to do about camp yet 
for several days, an' while I'm putting on the fin- 
ishing touches you two can light out and go to 
poisoning wolves an' trapping beaver or hunting 
any other game that you can find. You ought to 
explore the neighborhood for ten or twelve miles 
around in every direction. It's about time, too, 
for one of us to take a trip over to the fort to 
get our mail an' find out what's going on in the 
world." 

"Well, Tom, what are the orders for to-mor- 
row?" said I. 

"Why, you an' Jack had better go out an' kill a 
few more buffalo for baits an' Jack can set his 
traps for some more beaver. You might both of 
you ride up or down the creek for a few miles now 
and then, to learn the country like an' maybe 
pick up an antelope or some wild geese or ducks, 
to make a change in our bill of fare. An' about 
to-morrow or next day or the day after, when I 
get things pretty well shaped up about camp, I 
think I'll ride over to the fort an' get our mail 
an' see what's going on in the United States." 

"In a little while," remarked Jack, "if our luck 

148 



OUR CAMP ON WALNUT CREEK 

holds out, we'll be gettin' a big lot of wolfskins 
dried. How are we going to stow 'em away to 
take care of 'em till spring?" 

'*Well," replied Tom, "in a few days I'll rig up 
a lever to press 'em with, an' then as fast as we 
get a hundred or so dried we'll put fifty of 'em in 
a pile, press 'em down tight, an' tie 'em in bales 
with rawhide strips an' then store the bales away 
in the tent." 



149 



CHAPTER XIII 
KILLED BY THE INDIANS 

T?OR the next few days we were all very busy. 
"*- Tom was putting the finishing touches on 
our quarters, while Jack and I were doing the 
trapping, baiting, and skinning. I assisted Jack 
in trapping beaver and he helped me in killing 
bufFalo and taking care of the wolfskins. 

While working at these tasks we were riding the 
surrounding country, east and west, up and down 
the creek, and north and south in open prairie. 
At a distance of about three miles down the creek, 
on the north side, we found a series of connected 
sloughs leading off from the creek out into the 
prairie bottom, through which a string of little 
ponds ran for about a mile and then united with 
the main stream again. 

These sloughs, bordered by a rank growth of 
rushes, made excellent feeding-grounds for water- 
fowl. It was easy here to procure all the ducks, 
geese, brant, and sand-hill cranes that we wished. 
On the prairie were plenty of antelope, with now 
and then a few deer and elk in the timber along the 
creek. Everywhere were seen bleached and bleach- 
ing buffalo bones — too common a feature of the 
landscape to attract more than a passing glance. 

150 



KILLED BY THE INDIANS 

One day Jack and I had been killing some buf- 
falo for wolf baits on the high prairie south of our 
camp. We had become separated by a couple of 
miles; each had killed his buffalo, and I had poi- 
soned mine and started to Jack, who was wait- 
ing for me to prepare his buffalo for the wolves 
also. As I rode through a scattered lot of bones, 
where several animals seemed to have been killed 
together, I noticed among the lot a human skull. 
Looking more closely, I saw other human bones 
of the same skeleton and those of a horse, the 
hoofs of which, with the shoes still on, showed 
that it had not been an Indian's horse. Bones of 
wolves lay among the others. 

Here, then, seemed the evidences of a past 
tragedy, and, wishing to have Jack come and help 
to read the signs, I rode out clear of this bone- 
yard, fired a shot from my rifle to attract his at- 
tention, and then began riding around in a circle — 
the usual signal in such cases — to call him to me. 

He understood and galloped toward me. While 
he was coming I walked about among the relics, 
trying to solve the mystery of which these bones 
were the record. They had been somewhat scat- 
tered, by the wolves that had picked them, but 
their general lay indicated pretty clearly the rela- 
tive situation of the man and animals at the time 
of their death. The bones had probably not been 
there more than about a year. 

Although somewhat mixed and scattered, the 

151 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

general lay of the bones seemed to show the buffalo 
on one side, the horse on the other, and the man 
between them. The man's skull had a small bul- 
let hole through it at the temples, which suffi- 
ciently indicated the immediate cause of his death; 
but whether this shot had come from an enemy 
or had been self-inflicted could not be determined 
by the signs. 

While thus trying to interpret the indications, 
Jack reached me. 

*'Here, Jack, has been a man, horse, and buffalo 
killed," I said as he halted, "and from the looks 
of things, I think it happened about a year ago. 
Help me to read the signs. The horse was a 
white man's horse, for the hoofs, you see, have 
shoes on." 

**That ain't sure proof," replied he, "for the 
horse might have been lately captured or stolen 
from the whites. But, hold on!" he exclaimed 
after a moment's survey of the bone-yard, as, 
stooping, he picked up what proved to be the 
lower jaw-bone of the human skull. "This set- 
tles it. This says he was a white man, for here's 
a gold plug in one tooth." 

"Well, that settles one important point," I re- 
plied. "But how did the buffalo, man, and horse 
happen to die so close together?" 

"Seems to me," said Jack, still walking about 
scrutinizing the relics, "it could have happened in 
only one or two ways. Either the man and his 

152 



KILLED BY THE INDIANS 

horse have been killed by a wounded bull, an' the 
bull then fell an' died with 'em, or — which is 
more likely — the man killed the buffalo an', while 
busy cutting some of the meat out, was corralled 
by Injuns. How do you read it?" 

"The signs disprove your first proposition, 
Jack," I answered, "but confirm the second. If 
it had been an accident from a wounded bull there 
would be some such remains as the metallic parts 
of his gun or pistol, or buttons, spurs, buckles, and 
so forth; but you see there's not a thing of that 
kind to be seen. If he was killed by Indians they 
would have carried off all his and his horse's 
equipments; and I think that is what hap- 
pened." 

"I guess you're right," admitted Jack. "It 
must have been the work of Injuns." 

Just then he stopped and picked up an old 
bleached buffalo shoulder-blade that seemed to 
have been carefully placed, flat side down, on top 
of the weather-whitened skull of the older set of 
bones. "Halloo I what's this?" he exclaimed ex- 
citedly as he began scanning the bone. "Here 
it is. Peck. This'll tell us something about it if 
we can only make out the writing. See if you can 
make it out." 

On the flat side of the shoulder-blade was dimly 
pencilled a partially obliterated and nervously 
written inscription. It was without date, and 
yet enough of the wording was legible to enable 

153 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

us to make out the following message from the 
dead man: 



JLUi MX4 f^<L i^iL 



Cut off and surrounded by Injens Woonded — lay- 
ing between ded hors and ded bufFalow standing them 
off. Catriges nearly all gon God hep me 

John S. Kel Gran Mo. 

The name seemed to be something like Kelton, 
Kelsey, or Kelley, and several of the other words 
were so imperfectly written that I had to guess 
them out. We guessed the name of the town to 
be Granby, Missouri. 

As I finished rendering my interpretation of the 
inscription Jack said, as he devoutly crossed him- 
self: 

"'God help me!' the poor fellow said, an' no 
doubt the Good Man took pity on him an' let 

154 




It must have been the work of Injuns." 



KILLED BY THE INDIANS 

him in at the gate, for the good Book do tell us 
that he never was known to go back on such a 
prayer as that. Well, he must have hurted some 
of them Injuns in the row. It would be a satis- 
faction to find some sign that he got away with 
some of 'em; so let's mount an' take a circuit 
'round over the prairie for two or three hundred 
yards out an' see if we can find anything." 

We did so and were rewarded by finding the 
bones of two small horses, probably Indian ponies 
that the man had shot in defending his position. 

"That's some satisfaction," said Jack as we re- 
turned, "for it's more'n likely that he killed some 
of the Injuns, too. Well, what'll we do with these 
things?" pointing to the skull, jaw-bone, and buf- 
falo shoulder-blade. 

"I was thinking of taking them back to camp 
with us," I rephed, "to see what Tom will say." 
"Just what I was thinkin'," said Jack, dis- 
mounting and preparing to tie the skull and jaw- 
bone to his saddle. "I'll carry these an' you can 
carry the shoulder-blade. You'd better carry it 
in your hand, an' be careful of it so's not to rub 
out the writin' any more, for it's hard enough to 
make out as it is." 

Of course Tom was interested in the memorials 
we brought and asked us many questions about 
the signs we had found. 

After giving him time to study the problem out, 
I asked: 

155 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

**Well, Tom, what do you make of it?'' 

"It's my guess," he repKed deliberately, holding 
the skull up before him as though reading its his- 
tory, *'that this man was a wolf hunter, like our- 
selves, an' if so there'll be more of this affair to 
be discovered hereabouts. He had killed that buf- 
falo for wolf bait, 'cause if he'd been after meat 
he'd 'a' killed a younger one, or a cow, for you 
say the bones showed it was a big bull. A man 
wouldn't be so far away from the Santa Fe road 
huntin' buffalo without he had a camp in this 
neighborhood. If he had a camp he's had a 
pardner or two, an' what must have become of 
them.? Their camp must have been somewheres 
along the creek, not far from here. Have either 
of you seen any signs of such a layout in your 
rambles up or down the creek?" 

'*No," I answered, "but, then, neither of us has 
been more than about three miles up or down." 

"Well, after this, when you go up or down the 
creek make your trips extend a little farther each 
time till you've covered at least ten or twelve 
miles each way; an' by keeping your eyes peeled 
you may be able to find some remains of a hunt- 
er's camp or some sign that'll give us something 
more about this. This man came to his death 
about as you an' Jack guessed it; that is, while 
getting ready to poison his buffalo for wolf bait 
the Injuns came onto him an' surrounded him." 

"I think," I interrupted him to say, "that he 

iS6 



KILLED BY THE INDIANS 

had probably already poisoned the buffalo, for I 
noticed the bones of several wolves there, which 
would go to show that the wolves had died from 
eating the poisoned meat of the buffalo/' 

"Well, yes — likely," returned Tom. *'He put 
up a good fight, though, from what you say, an' 
seems to have been a man that's had some pre- 
vious experience in that line. Did you notice 
any bullet hole in his horse's skull .^" 

"No. I looked for that, but there was no sign 
that the horse had been shot in the head; but he 
might have been shot elsewhere." 

"'Tain't likely," replied the old man thought- 
fully, "for you say the horse's bones show that 
he died close to the buffalo, an' the man in be- 
tween 'em, as his bones show an' the writing on 
the shoulder-blade says. He must have cut its 
throat. How far off from the man's bones was 
the bones of the Injun ponies that you found .^" 

"About three hundred yards," I replied. 

"Well, he must have had a Sharp's rifle,* for 
a muzzle-loader wouldn't kill that far. But he's 

* There were no metallic cartridge shells in use in those days, the 
cartridges for Sharp's rifles and all firearms being put up in paper. 
The Sharp's rifle carbine, which was one of the earliest breech-loaders 
brought into use on the frontier, had been adopted by the govern- 
ment for the cavalry service and was also a favorite bufi"alo gun 
among frontiersmen generally. Their extreme eff"ective range was 
eight hundred yards, the longest-range guns then in use on the plains. 
The Colt's navy pistols we used then would shoot with the force 
and accuracy of a rifle for about three hundred yards. I remember 
seeing a sergeant in the Second Dragoons kill an antelope one day 
with a Colt's navy (taking a dead rest) at a distance of three hun- 
dred paces. The regulation "pace" is thirty inches. 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

had a navy pistol, too, for this shot he give him- 
self was a navy ball." 

And taking a navy bullet out of his pocket, 
Tom showed us that it would just fit the hole in 
the skull. 

**He's been right-handed, too," continued the 
old man, "for the ball went in on the right side 
an' come out on the left. You see, the little 
hole is clean-cut on the right side but bigger an' 
ragged on the left where it come out. That tells 
where it went in an' where it come out. When 
he wrote that note on the old shoulder-blade he's 
been getting nervous, or maybe weak from loss 
of blood. It's a pity, though, that he didn't set 
down his name an' the town where he come from 
a little plainer so's we could write to his folks 
an' let 'em know what become of him. But, like 
many another poor devil that's been wiped out 
by Injuns, his people'll never know where, when, 
or how he died. 

"Well," continued the old man after a pause, 
"I b'Heve I'll ride over to the fort to-morrow; an' 
get our mail an' come back next day, an' I guess 
I'll just take them things along," pointing to the 
bones, "an' maybe some o' the folks over there 
can tell me somethin' more about this affair. If 
anybody knows anything about it French Dave'U 
know, for he's been among the Injuns a good 
deal an' would be likely to have heard something 
about it." 

158 



CHAPTER XIV 
SATANTA'S STORY 

'^TEXT day, mounted on Black Prince, Tom 
-^ ^ started for Fort Earned. He had stowed 
the skull of the supposed deceased wolf hunter in 
a gunny sack tied to his saddle, but the buffalo 
shoulder-blade he wrapped carefully in the fur of 
a fox skin, to make sure that no chafing should 
further obliterate the already obscure record. 

These relics he intended to submit to the best 
sign readers to be found about the fort, to ascer- 
tain if any light could be thrown on the supposed 
tragedy. 

As I was writing a letter to send in by Tom, 
Jack remarked: "We ought to have a name for 
our camp, a place to date letters from, something 
more than just 'Camp on Walnut Creek.'" 

"That wouldn't be a bad idea," I replied, "but 
what shall we call it.? The only things we see 
here are buffaloes, coyotes, and antelopes, with a 
few prairie-dogs and rattlesnakes. How would it 
do to call our place 'Camp Antelope'.?" 

"I think it would be more to the point," said 
Jack, "to call it 'Camp Coyote.'" 

'Well," said Tom, "why not compromise and 
call it 'Camp Coyotelope ' ? " 

159 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

"Let it be so/' said I, and I so dated my let- 
ter, and from that time on we spoke of our win- 
ter home as Camp Coyotelope. 

Nothing unusual happened while Tom was gone. 
Jack tended his traps, while I did the wolf baiting 
and skinning. 

On the second evening, just in time for supper, 
Tom returned from Fort Larned, bringing our 
mail, and as we gathered around the table we 
asked him anxiously what he had learned about 
the dead man. 

*'A whole lot," repHed the old man between 
mouthfuls, "an* not just what I wanted to find out, 
either. None of 'em could make out the man's 
name or where he come from any nigher than we 
did. I went right to the adjutant's office, where 
I found several of the officers, an' when I brought 
out the bones an' told 'em the story they be- 
came interested. One officer had heard something 
about a party of hunters being wiped out by the 
Injuns about a year ago, but he didn't know the 
particulars. That writing on the old shoulder- 
blade attracted 'em most, an' each one had to 
take it an' examine it. But they couldn't make 
it out. 

"I suggested to the adjutant that maybe French 
Dave might know something, an' he sent an or- 
derly for Dave right away, an', sure enough, the 
ol' French-Canadian did know something. 

**0r Dave asked me: * Where you find 'em?' 

1 60 



SATANTA'S STORY 

An' then I told him all I knew about the matter, 
an' what the signs seemed to show, an' read to him 
the writing on the shoulder-blade, for Dave can 
neither read nor write. He studied awhile an' 
then said: *Yes — mus' be same lot. I know 
'bout yother two. See 'em bones where Injuns 
kill 'em. No see this one bones, but Satanta tell 
me 'bout it one day. Mus' be same one.' 

**The story of the affair," continued Tom, "as I 
gathered it from Dave, is about thisaway: Three 
wolf hunters with a wagon an' team had estab- 
lished their camp on Walnut Creek, an' from what 
Dave says the remains of that camp an' the bones 
of two of the men must be down the creek from 
here about five miles, on the same side we are on. 

"These wolf hunters had just fairly got estab- 
lished when Satanta an' about twenty of his men 
come along, one day, just in time to see this fel- 
low, whose bones you found, a-starting off on the 
prairie to kill a buffalo an' poison it for wolves. 
The Injuns hadn't been seen by the white men, 
an' after this one was gone Satanta kept his men 
out of sight of the wolf hunters, all except one 
besides himself, an' him an' this one rode out in 
sight of the white men an' made signs of friend- 
ship, an' the wolf hunters let 'em come into their 
camp. After begging some grub from the white 
men the two Injuns made themselves very agree- 
able an' friendly, an' by and by a few more of 
the Kiowas dropped along an' was allowed to come 

i6i 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

into the camp; for I s'pose they seemed so friendly 
that the white men thought it wouldn't look neigh- 
borly to show any suspicion of such good Injuns. 

"Satanta told Dave, bragging how sHck he 
worked it, that when he got these wolf hunters in 
a proper frame of mind an' saw that the sign was 
right, he give the word, an' they turned loose and 
killed the two men before they had time to realize 
the trap they'd got into. 

"Then, after plundering the camp, a warrior 
called Lame Deer took six others an' started off 
to follow up an' take in the man they'd seen going 
away, for fear that he might somehow get wind 
of the affair before coming back to camp and get 
away. 

**They overtook him, so Satanta told Dave, 
just after the man had killed a buffalo, skinned 
part of the hide back, an', as the Injuns supposed, 
was about to cut out some o' the hump steak; an', 
just as we made it out by the signs, the man, see- 
ing the desperate fix he was in, had cut his horse's 
throat to make a bfeastwork of his carcass on one 
side, an', with the buffalo on the other, had got 
down between 'em an' give the Injuns a rattlin' 
good fight, killin' one Kiowa, badly woundin' an- 
other, an' killin' the two ponies you found the 
bones of. 

"But they got him at last — at least he killed 
himself when he was down to his last cartridge — 
an' then they piled onto him an' stripped every 

162 



SATANTA'S STORY 

stitch of clothes off his body, but, seein' that the 
man had committed suicide, their superstitions 
kept 'em from scalping him or mutilating his 
body. 

"An', now comes a gratifying part of the pro- 
ceedings, as told to Dave by Satanta, that the 
signs didn't reveal to us. When Lame Deer an' 
his party had stripped the dead man an' his horse 
of all their equipments an' was gittin' ready to 
return to Satanta's party at the hunters' camp, 
some of the Injuns concluded to cut out a big 
chunk of the hump steak of the buffalo that the 
white man had just stripped the hide off of an' 
intended to cut out the steak himself, as they 
s'posed. 

"But it turned out that the white man had un- 
consciously set a death-trap for some of 'em; for 
he had already poisoned the skinned side of the 
buffalo, and when the Injuns got back to the 
camp an' cooked an' eat their fresh hump steak 
all that eat the fresh meat was poisoned, an' four 
of 'em kicked the bucket right there. 

"Well, sir, Dave says, this so scared the rest of 
the Injuns that, although they had packed their 
ponies with a lot of the white men's provender, 
they were afraid to use any of the food, an' so 
they piled all of it into the white men's wagon 
an' set fire to it an' burned the whole business. 

"Then, packing the bodies of their dead war- 
riors on their ponies, they made their way back 

163 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

to their main village, some miles down the creek, 
a little the loser in the long run, for, although they 
had killed the three white men an' destroyed 
their outfit, it had cost 'em five warriors. 

**The wiping out of these wolf hunters," Tom 
went on, *^ corroborates what Tve often told you, 
an' what your own experience ought to teach 
you, that it's never safe to depend on the friend- 
ship of Injuns — 'specially Kiowas. Whenever they 
can get a good chance at a white man, or a small 
party of whites, they don't hesitate to murder 'em 
— an' 'specially a party of hunters, for that class 
they consider their natural enemies on account of 
the hunters kilhng what the Injuns claim to be the 
red man's game. 

"I left them bones with the adjutant over to 
the fort," continued Tom, **as he thought maybe 
somebody might come along who could throw more 
light on the mystery. Then I called on Weissel- 
baum an' told him we were just a-gettin' under 
good headway poisoning wolves, trapping beaver, 
an' so forth, an' he offered to buy all our catch 
— wanted to make a bargain with me right then — 
but I stood him off, for I think maybe we can do 
better to take our skins into Leavenworth. Some 
of the officers wanted to know if we couldn't bring 
'em over a saddle of antelope for their mess when- 
ever one of us goes over there for our mail. I 
guess we can do it just as well as not an' make a 
little spending money on the side; an', besides, it's 

164 



SATANTA'S STORY 

always a good idea to be on good terms with the 
officers at the post, for we may want favors from 
them now an' then/' 

Since moving into our dugout we had found 
ourselves so much more cramped for room than 
we had been in the tent that, following Tom's 
suggestion and example, we had each built him- 
self a swinging frame of poles with a buffalo-hide 
stretched over it on which to spread our beds. 
During the day we kept these hanging bunks 
triced up to the timbers overhead, out of the 
way, lowering them to within a couple of feet of 
the floor to sleep in after supper each evening. 
We found them a luxury compared with sleeping 
on the hard ground. 

Next day, after Tom's return from the fort. 
Jack and I rode down the creek to look for the 
bones of the wolf hunters of whom French Dave 
had told Tom and had little difficulty in finding 
them, for the burnt remains of their little log 
cabin, on the prairie, a little way from the tim- 
ber, attracted us and guided us to the spot. The 
bones of the two men had been scattered by the 
wolves, but the irons of their burnt wagon were 
lying just where the fire had left them. 

That their camp had been established at a rea- 
sonable distance from the timber and otherwise 
well located in a defensive point of view showed 
that these men had had some knowledge of the 
dangers to be guarded against from hostile In- 

i6s 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

dians and that they had probably been plainsmen 
of experience; but, as Tom said, their fatal error 
was in allowing too many Indians to come into 
their camp. 

We were now — about the middle of December — 
"doing a land-office business," as Jack expressed 
it, in taking wolf pelts, gathering them in daily 
about as fast as we could take care of them. Jack 
was doing well also in beaver trapping, having 
already accumulated a lot of fine furs. 

Tom had rigged up a press by means of which 
we put the skins into compact bales and stowed 
them away in the tent. The tunnel connecting 
the dugout and tent came up into the latter right 
in the centre, between the legs of the iron tripod 
that supported the tent-pole, and he placed the 
bales of skins in a close wall all around the tent, 
leaving an open space in the centre around the 
tripod, and I asked him why. 

"This tent," he answered, "will be our look- 
out station and also our * bomb-proof in case of 
need." 

"The bales of fur'll make it bullet-proof, all 
right," I replied, "but I don't see how we can see 
out after you get that bank of wolfskins piled up 
toward the tops of the doors." 

"When we get them up that high," said Tom, 
"I intend to cut three or four loopholes in the 
canvas, about big enough to look through an' shoot 
out of, an' over each hole, to keep out the weather, 

i66 



SATANTA'S STORY 

I'll sew a flap that can be tucked up or let down to 
suit circumstances." 

"Great head/' said Jack. "A good general was 
spoiled when Tom enlisted." 

"'In time of peace, prepare for war/ was one 
of George Washington's maxims/' said Tom, "an' 
never was more sensible advice given for either 
individual or nation." 

Usually Jack and I did most of the hunting and 
scouting around over the adjacent country, but 
now and chen Tom would strike out for a short 
trip up or down the creek on his own account. 

One day, after being out for a short time, he 
came hurrying back and began to delve in the 
mess-chest, inquiring for a fish-hook and line that 
he had seen there, declaring that he had just 
found a lot of fresh otter tracks on the bank of the 
creek. 

"Why, Tom," asked Jack innocently, "do they 
catch otter with fish-hooks?" 

"No, you numskull," replied the old man im- 
patiently, "the fish-hook and line is to catch fish 
to bait traps for the otter. 

"Now, then, Jack," continued the old man after 
finding his fishing-tackle and assuring himself that 
it was in good condition, "come along with me 
down to the beaver dam, an' while I catch a fish 
or two for bait you pull up a couple of your beaver 
traps an' we'll set for otter." 

"Well, I guess I can spare you a couple of traps 

167 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

now,'* replied Jack. "I ain't catching as many- 
beavers lately as when I first started in. I think 
I'm getting the herd pretty well thinned out. 
But I've done pretty well at trapping, for I've 
took some thirty odd nice beaver skins besides a 
few muskrats." 

A few hours later the two men returned to camp 
after having caught some fish and baited and set 
the traps for otter, and next morning, taking Jack 
with him, Tom found, on visiting his traps and fish- 
ing them up out of the water, a fine otter fastened 
by a leg in each trap and drowned. Later Tom 
took a number of otter skins, but they were by 
no means as numerous as the beaver. 

Black Prince, after he became accustomed to 
it, was a much better buffalo horse than either 
of the mustangs, though, when two mounted 
hunters went out, the buckskin bronco, Vinegar, 
did pretty well for that work. The gray mare, 
Polly, could not be brought near enough to a 
buffalo to be used as a hunter. Now and then 
Jack and I went afoot down to the slough to kill 
some ducks or geese. Our shepherd dog Found 
was a good retriever, and when we went gunning 
for water-fowl we generally took him along to 
bring ashore any birds killed on the water. 

"I want to remind you men," said Tom one 
day, "that this fine weather we've been having 
can't, in the nature of things, last much longer. 
We're liable to have a cold rain, turning to a sleet 

i68 



SATANTA'S STORY 

or snow-storm, or maybe a regular old blizzard 
swooping down on us now soon, an' we must be 
prepared for it. Our camp's in pretty good shape, 
but we haven't fitted ourselves out with fur caps 
an' mittens an' other fixings to enable us to stand 
the winds of winter. I propose that we put in 
our spare time for the next few days a-dressing 
some hides, an' then a-cutting out and making us 
a good fur cap an' pair of mittens apiece, an' 
something in the way of buflPalo overshoes, too, 
to slip on over our boots, an' a wolfskin overcoat 
apiece. 

"Now, the first thing to do is to select the hides 
to be used an' flesh 'em, an' then get out that 
package of alum that we brought along to tan 
'em with an' go to dressing 'em. Those little 
yellow fox skins ain't worth much to sell, but they 
will be just the things for caps an' mittens. I've 
got an old buffalo robe that we can cut up for 
overshoes an' put rawhide soles to 'em. As for 
myself, I've been thinking that the next time I 
go over to the fort I'll see if I can find enough 
dressed buflFalo calfskins in Weisselbaum's stock 
— it'll only take about six or eight — to make me 
an overcoat; for a buffalo calfskin overcoat is a 
mighty serviceable garment for winter wear." 

"You're right, they are," said Jack, "but I 
guess me an' Peck'll have to put up with a coyote 
coat apiece for knockin' around here this winter, 
and when we get back to Leavenworth we'll have 

169 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

a stylish overcoat of beaver skins put up for next 
winter. What do you say, Peck?" 

"Fm favorable," I replied, *'but, as this is a 
partnership business, of course we'll have to pay 
Tom for his interest in the beaver skins." 

"Well," said the old man, "I'll balance the ac- 
count with you this way. I'll make it a stand- 
off, if I get otter skins enough, by having me a 
fancy overcoat made of them." 

The caps, mittens, overshoes, and coats were 
duly made and gave us much comfort during the 
storms of winter. 

Game continued plenty. We often killed an- 
telope within a few rods of our dugout and some- 
times had to turn out in the night and help the 
dog drive a herd of buffalo out of camp. 



170 



CHAPTER XV 
WILD BILL VISITS US 

TN preparing for a probable blizzard we had 
hauled up several loads of good, dry wood and 
chopped much of it into stove wood, carrying it 
into our quarters and stowing it away in the 
tunnel, still leaving a passageway, however. We 
found that the tunnel acted as a flue and caused 
such a draught through our Httle room that we 
were forced to temporarily close up the opening 
in the tent by placing a bale of wolfskins over the 
hole. We now put our stock into their dugout 
stable at night, giving them a little hay to gnaw 
at, and during the day, when not in use, we kept 
them out on the dry buffalo-grass. As yet we were 
feeding them no grain, saving that for a time of 
need. 

"From now on," Tom said, "I want you men 
to be particular to put harness, tools, an' every- 
thing under shelter of nights, so that we can find 
these things when we want 'em, for we're liable 
to get up 'most any morning now and find a couple 
of feet of snow on the ground an' this ravine be- 
tween us an' the stable drifted level full. In that 
case we'll want the spade an' shovel to clear away a 

171 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

passage to the stable door, so's we can 'tend to the 
stock; for a bhzzard is Hable to keep up the howl 
for several days an' nights; an' during such a spell 
we won't dare to poke our noses out of the shanty 
further than to feed the stock. We'll fix Found a 
comfortable bed in the tent, between the stacks 
of wolfskins, where he can be of some service as a 
sentry without being too much exposed, but in 
case of a very keen spell we'll bring him into the 
dugout." 

Previous to this time Jack and I had explored 
the country for a distance of ten or twelve miles 
in every direction — not looking for game particu- 
larly, for that was always plenty close around 
camp, but for signs of the presence of Indians. 
We had discovered, however, no fresh signs — 
nothing to indicate that Indians had visited this 
part of the country more recently than a couple 
of months past. This fact encouraged us, and we 
hoped that we would be fortunate enough to finish 
our winter's work undisturbed. Still, Indians 
were likely to be moving about occasionally, even 
at this time of the year, and might yet discover 
our camp, in which case they might make it un- 
pleasant for us. 

This part of the plains was sometimes ranged 
over by the Cheyennes, Arapahoes, and other 
tribes, but had been for some time past the spe- 
cial range of the Kiowas, who, under the leader- 
ship of Satank, Satanta, and Big Tree, were ever 

172 



WILD BILL VISITS US 

ready to wipe out a small party when the oppor- 
tunity presented. 

While we relied somewhat on our proximity 
to Fort Larned as a protection from Indian depre- 
dations, we felt that our only real security was 
in not being discovered by the Kiowas until our 
hunting season was over and we were ready to 
break camp and return to the settlements. 

On Tom's last trip over to the fort he had 
learned that our old Company K, First Cavalry, 
together with the other three companies from Fort 
Wise, under command of Captain Elmer Otis, had 
passed by Fort Larned a few days before, en route 
to Fort Leavenworth and the war. 

We were all sorry that we had not learned of the 
passing of our old command in time for one of our 
party, at least, to meet them at Fort Larned and 
exchange gossip with them; and Jack was regret- 
ting that he had not re-enlisted, instead of going 
wolf hunting, so that he could now be going to 
the front with them. He feared that the fighting 
would be all over and the war brought to a close 
before he got a chance at it. 

"Don't you fret about this war coming to a 
close before you can get a whack at them rebels," 
said Tom. "It's just a-getting under good head- 
way now, an' there'll be lots of good fighting yet 
for you and me; and more'n likely, if we live 
through it, we'll be longing for peace long before 
peace comes again." 

173 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

Our tent was fast becoming filled with bales of 
wolfskins, and one day I asked: 

"Tom, what are we going to do for some place 
to store our wolfskins? Our tent is nearly full, 
and we are still taking them, and the season isn't 
half through/' 

"I've been thinking about that, too," replied 
the old man, "and I guess I'll make another trip 
over to the fort to-morrow to get them buffalo calf- 
skins for my overcoat, an' while I'm over there I'll 
try to get the use of an empty room there among 
the old dobes where we can store 'em; an' we can 
take a wagon-load over from time to time as the 
tent gets too full." 

Next day he went to the fort, returning on the 
following evening, with a lot of Indian-dressed 
buffalo calfskins for his overcoat, and reported 
that he had engaged an unused room of Weissel- 
baum wherein to store our baled skins. 

Tom soon had a very serviceable overcoat made 
from the calfskins — far better than the coyote 
coats Jack and I had made us — lining it with a 
red blanket and covering the collar and cuffs with 
muskrat skins, which have a beautiful fur, some- 
what similar to the beaver in color but not so 
heavy. 

As yet we had had but one light fall of snow — 
nothing like a storm — and it had soon passed off, 
the weather continuing fair but quite cold of 
nights and mornings. 

174 



WILD BILL VISITS US 

One day, as we were about to sit down to dinner, 
my attention was arrested by a whoop or two that 
had a familiar sound, and, on looking out on the 
trail toward the fort, I saw a mounted man coming 
at a gallop. Found, too, seemed to think he had 
heard that whoop before, for he ran up onto the 
dirt roof of our dugout, looked and listened a 
moment at the approaching horseman, and when 
the shout was repeated he hesitated no longer 
but with a wild yelp of recognition dashed away 
to meet the newcomer. 

I had just time to call to my comrades in the 
dugout: "See here, men, I believe it's Wild Bill," 
when, as they came rushing out, I noticed the 
mounted man halt suddenly and roll ofF his horse 
as the dog met him, and in a moment more Found 
and his master were rolling over the ground hug- 
ging each other in mad delight, while Bill's horse 
stood looking on in apparent astonishment at their 
wild antics. 

As Bill came walking up to camp, leading his 
horse, with Found prancing and yelping about 
him, I thought I had never seen a dog so nearly 
crazy with delight. No doubt. Found had often 
thought of his absent master and had wondered 
what had become of him and whether he would 
ever see him again; and now they were reunited, 
and both seemed overjoyed at the meeting. 

After hearty greetings and handshakes all around 
the scout tied his horse to a wheel of the wagon 

^7S 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

while we all retired to the dugout, where our din- 
ners were in danger of getting cold, and were soon 
seated around the mess box, eating and talking, 
for we all had a great deal to say to Bill, and he 
to us. Found had huddled down beside his mas- 
ter and was not neglected. 

"I hope you've come to stay several days with 
us. Bill," said Tom. 

*^No, boys," replied the scout; "I'll stay with 
you to-night, but I've got to get back to the fort 
to-morrow. You see, the regulars are going away 
before long, and the troops that's coming to take 
their places are volunteers and, of course, green 
as grass about frontier service and managing 
Injuns; an' so me an' French Dave an' a few other 
ol' hands have got to get out an' scout around 
and find out where the Injuns are at an' try to 
find out how they're feelin' toward the whites, an' 
so forth. That's what I was sent out here ahead 
of the volunteers for. But when I get back to 
the fort I'll be close enough to come over an' take 
a square meal with you every now and then." 

Leaving Bill and Tom to talk while the old man 
cleared up the dishes. Jack and I went out to at- 
tend to the stock; and the Irishman suggested 
that while I took our two broncos out of the stable 
and staked them on the lee side of the haystack 
he would unsaddle the scout's horse and put him 
in the stable. When Bill came out and found 
what he had done he remonstrated. 

176 



WILD BILL VISITS US 

"Now, boys, I don't want you to go to any 
trouble on my account, for I'm used to taking 
things as they come, an' my horse is, too. I'm 
afraid it'll be hard on your broncos to turn 'em 
out in the cold." 

"Not a bit of it," replied Jack. "The weather's 
not bad now, an' they're tough, anyway. You see, 
we don't have the honor of entertainin' the Hon- 
orable William Hickock, Esq., every day, an' we 
want to treat him so well that he'll come again." 
*Well, I'll sure do it," replied the scout; then 
taking a look at our camp and surrounding 
grounds, he added: "Boys, you've certainly 
picked out an' built a good camp an' planned 
everything handy for your winter's work. I 
think I can see ol* Tom's handiwork all through 
this layout." 

"You're right," said Jack; "if it wasn't for oV 
Tom's brains I don't know what we'd do." 

Going into the stable again, Jack brought out 
Black Prince to show him to Bill. 

"This is the horse that we captured from them 
jayhawkers back t'other side of Council Grove," 
he said as he led the black out for the scout's 
inspection. 

"He's a fine-lookin' fellow, Jack. Is he any 
good ? " 

"You bet. One of the best horses for all-'round 
service I ever saw," replied the enthusiastic Irish- 
man. 

177 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

We had a great time that afternoon relating to 
Bill all the happenings since we parted with him 
in Leavenworth, and after supper we still had 
plenty to talk about by candle-light. 

"Boys, you seem to have taken good care of 
Found," said Bill, stroking the dog's head again 
for the thousandth time, "judging by his looks 
and the contented way he's stuck to you. Has 
he been any account to you.?" 

"That he has," replied Jack. "He's one of 
the best and smartest dogs I ever saw. I don't 
know how we'd get along without him." 

"Well, I guess he may as well make his home 
with you as long as you stay here, for I'll be away 
from the post pretty often, an' I wouldn't like to 
leave him there to run with everybody; but if 
you've no objections I'll take him over to Larned 
with me to-morrow, just to give him a little exer- 
cise an' let him renew old acquaintance with the 
soldiers an' officers, for they all know him; an' 
I'll be coming by this way in a day or so again — 
for I expect I'll have to take a trip over to the 
Smoky Hill to locate the Kiowas — an' then I'll 
leave him with you again." 

"All right. Bill, he's your dog," repHed Jack, 
"but he's mighty welcome here an' he's a lot of 
help to us minding camp." 

"No doubt of it, for he's got more sense than 
some people have. I can talk to him an' tell him 
to do things, an' he seems to understand 'most 

178 



WILD BILL VISITS US 

everything I say to him an' will do just what I 
tell him to." 

"Bill," I asked, **do the officers at the garrison 
seem to think there's any danger of the Indians 
going on the war-path?" 

"Well, no, I don't think they really expect any 
outbreak," replied the scout, "but Injuns, you 
know, are the most uncertain varmints on earth; 
an' on account of taking away the regulars an' 
putting green volunteers to garrisoning the posts 
on the plains, it's more'n likely that the Injuns'U 
soon discover the difference an' take advantage 
of the chance to raise a ruction. I've got to look 
up the Kiowas first, 'cause they're the most likely 
ones to make trouble; an' when I find their winter 
camp I'll stay with 'em a few days, to kinder feel 
of 'em an' see what sort of a humor they're in, 
an' then I'll hunt up the Cheyennes an' Arapa- 
hoes next an' feel of their pulses, too. An' while 
I'm a-doing that job French Dave an' the other 
fellows'll be looking up the Comanches an' Prairie 
Apaches — they generally range between the Cimar- 
ron an' Red River, an' ain't likely to come up this 
way before grass comes, anyway, but the Kiowas 
an' Cheyennes'll need watchin'." 

"Well, when you get back you must call around 
here and let us know what you think of the pros- 
pect for peace or war — that is, if you find out any- 
thing," I said. 

"How many of you will go on this trip.f"' asked 
Tom. 

179 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

"Only two — me an' John Adkins. You see, 
Frenchy is to take a man with him an' round 
up the country south of the Arkansas, along the 
Cimarron an' the Canadians, an' I'll take Ad- 
kins with me an' scout the country north till we 
find the camps. 

Next morning, after breakfast. Wild Bill, fol- 
lowed by Found, took the trail back to Fort 
Larned. Jack and I made our usual round of the 
baits in the forenoon, skinned the dead wolves 
that we found lying about them, brought in the 
skins and pegged them down to dry. 

In the afternoon we started out afoot to kill 
some fresh meat for our mess, the Irishman going 
up the creek in search of antelope or deer while I 
walked down to the slough to see if there were any 
water-fowl there to be picked up. I killed a sand- 
hill crane and returned to camp. Jack had done 
better than I, having killed a large deer and come 
back and taken Prince out to carry the meat in. 
Tom had outdone us both, having killed four an- 
telope without leaving camp. 

*'How in the world did you do it, Tom.?" I 
asked as I come to where he was busy skinning 
and dressing four dead antelope that he had 
strung up. 

"Well, sir, I'll tell you how it was," replied he 
with a gratified smile, still plying his butcher-knife. 
"Soon after you men left camp a bunch of antelope 
come playing 'round on the prairie out yonder, 

1 80 



WILD BILL VISITS US 

up the ravine a piece, but, as they wouldn't come 
quite close enough to suit me, I got out a red 
blanket, tied it to a little pole, an' crept along up 
the ravine till I got about opposite to 'em, an' 
then raised the red blanket above the bank an' 
planted the pole. 

"Soon as they sighted the strange red thing 
they raised their heads an' stared at it a bit, 
an' then come up toward it, all in a bunch, an' 
stopped an' took another look. Then they seemed 
to get frightened an' turned an' run away, but 
I knew they'd come back. They circled 'round 
an' come up again an' halted for another look, 
an' then run away again an' circled 'round an' 
come back, an' each time they came a little 
closer. 

"I noticed that when they'd halt to gaze at the 
blanket they'd Hne up four or five abreast; so the 
idea struck me that if I could get back into an- 
other little ravine that was close by, an' crawl up 
that a Httle ways, so as to take 'em in flank when 
they'd Kne up thataway, I'd get two or three of 
'em. I did that, an' the next time they halted an' 
Hned up there were four of 'em in range, with their 
sides to me, an' I turned loose an' killed three of 
'em an' wounded the fourth so that I got him 
next shot." 

'You did a good job, and did it well, too," I 
replied. Just then Jack came up with his load of 
deer meat. "Why, Jack," I began, "how in the 

i8i 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

world did you happen to kill a buck? I didn't 
think you were hunter enough to stalk a deer." 

"You don't appear to know me, young fellow," 
he returned with a swaggering air. "It's a mighty 
hunter I'm getting to be, as well as a famous 
trapper." 

"But tell us all about how you got that buck; I 
know there's something to explain about it," I 
replied. 

"Well, now," laying aside his assumed bragga- 
docio and becoming the candid Irishman again, 
"to tell you the honest God's truth, I just blun- 
dered onto him. It was this way: I was a-sneak- 
ing along through the timber when all of a suddent 
I sees this laddybuck a-standing broadside to me, 
only about twenty steps away, an' he hadn't seen 
nor heard me, for I was behind a big tree. I was 
that nervous I didn't think I could have hit the 
side of a barn, so I rested my carbine against the 
side of the tree, took as good aim as I could about 
where I thought his heart ought to be — right be- 
hind the fore shoulder — an' let him have it; an' 
I'm blest if I didn't fetch him, first pop. He gave 
one big bound into the air an' fell dead; an' just 
then two does, that had been laying down behind 
some bushes, jumped an' run an' were out of 
sight in a jiffy, before I could shove another car- 
tridge into me carbine. But I didn't want any 
more deer meat just then, so I came back to camp 
to get the horse to fetch the meat in." 

182 



WILD BILL VISITS US 

**But, Tom," I asked, "what are we going to do 
with so much venison?" 

"Oh, it'll keep, all right; but then I'll be going 
over to the fort again in a day or so, an' I guess 
I'd as well take two or three of the carcasses over 
there an' sell 'em to the officers' mess." 



183 



CHAPTER XVI 

TOM LOCKS THE STABLE DOOR 

npHIS evening, just before dark, when we were 
-*- bringing in the tools and making things se- 
cure for the night, I noticed that Tom had got 
out an old padlock that had long lain unused in 
the mess-chest, and then had found a piece of 
trace-chain, and with the two had securely locked 
the stable door — a precaution that we had never 
thought necessary before — and I asked him: 
"What are you doing that for, Tom? Seen any 
fresh signs about?" 

"No," he answered, "but 'tain't much trouble 
an' it's always best to be on the safe side. We've 
been used to having Found to do guard-duty of 
nights, an' it may have got us in a fashion of sleep- 
ing sounder than we would if we'd had to look out 
for ourselves; now, while the dog is away, with the 
stable door unlocked it would be easy enough for 

an Injun to sneak our horses out an' get away with 

» if 
em. 

I smiled at what seemed to me a useless pre- 
caution and it passed from my mind; but along in 
the night, after we had been some hours asleep, I 

184 



TOM LOCKS THE STABLE DOOR 

was suddenly awakened by a slight noise like the 
rattling of a chain. 

Instantly I was thoroughly aroused and remem- 
bered Tom's chain on the stable door. Had I been 
dreaming? I raised my head cautiously and lis- 
tened intently. There it was again — unmistak- 
ably the chain on the stable door. 

I determined to investigate before arousing my 
comrades, and slipping quietly out of my bed I 
tiptoed carefully to the door, pulled up one cor- 
ner of the muslin cover to the lookout hole, and 
peeped out at the stable door. The moon was 
shining brightly, and there, to my astonishment, 
sat a man, crouched at the door of the stable in- 
tently working at the lock, either trying to pick 
it or pry it off. He was not an Indian, either. 
He had soldier clothes on, and beside him on the 
ground lay a small bundle. 

I took in all this at a glance, and then quietly 
and quickly sHpped back to Tom's bed, shook him 
gently, and whispered: 

"Sh! don't make a bit of noise, Tom. There's 
a man working at the lock on the stable door. 
Get up quietly while I wake Jack." 

It was more difficult to keep the excitable Irish- 
man quiet while arousing him, but I succeeded in 
getting him up without making noise enough to 
be heard outside. Each man took a look through 
the peep-hole and saw that the crouching soldier 
was still intently working at the lock. 

i8s 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

"Now," I whispered to my comrades, "let each 
one of us get his carbine or pistol ready, and be 
careful to keep them from rattling, and when I 
open our door we'll call on him to throw up his 
hands and take him prisoner/' 

"I think I'll give him a load of shot first," 
whispered Jack, who had the shotgun, "an' then 
call on him to throw up." 

Finding that I could not open our door without 
making a noise, I jerked it wide open quickly. As 
I did so the kneeling man turned the full side of 
his face to me, and in the bright moonlight I 
recognized private John Flaherty, one of two 
soldiers who not long before, with Lieutenant 
Smith, had been caught in a bhzzard at our camp 
and had stayed there until the storm was over. 
Seeing Jack raise his shotgun to fire, I knocked 
the muzzle up as I exclaimed: 

"Don't shoot, Jack, it's Flaherty!" 

He had pressed the trigger, but my throwing 
the barrels up sent the load of shot into the dirt 
roof of the stable instead of into Flaherty's back. 

I wondered at the stupid, sluggish manner of 
the man as he rose to his feet at the report of the 
gun, but when he started ofF up the path leading 
to the top of the bank his uncertain gait plainly 
showed that he was drunk. 

Dropping his shotgun. Jack bounded out and 
up the path after him, soon overtaking the drunken 
soldier, seizing him by the collar and cuffing him 

1 86 



TOM LOCKS THE STABLE DOOR 

right heartily, with each slap rebuking the would- 
be horse thief for his drunkenness and thievery. 

When Flaherty was brought into the dugout 
it was evident that he was almost senseless from 
drink. He was taken over to Pound's bed and 
left there, sound asleep. 

"There," said Tom, "we forgot to bring in that 
little bundle he left by the stable door." 

He brought it in, and on opening it it was found 
to consist of a pint bottle with a little whiskey in 
it and a change of underclothing marked with the 
man's initials. 

"Well," said Tom, "this poor fellow has gone 
on a spree; while drunk the idea of deserting has 
come to him, and he has started ofFover the prairie 
in the dead of winter, through an Indian country, 
without arms, provisions, or clothing. As I have 
often said, a man who is drunk is literally crazy, 
and this proves it." 

Next morning, when Flaherty was aroused, he 
had at first no idea where he was and, after he 
had been told, no idea how he got here. He pro- 
fessed that he had no wish to desert, for he was 
getting along in his company as well as any of 
the men and his time of service had nearly ex- 
pired. 

However, he actually had deserted, and he did 
not know what to do, whether to go back and give 
himself up and take his punishment or whether to 
goon. Tom said to him: 

187 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

"Of course, Flaherty, you can do as you like, 
but I really think, under the circumstances, you 
had best go back and give yourself up and take 
your medicine. Maybe, if I go along with you 
and explain the situation to Lieutenant Smith, 
and ask him to intercede with the commanding 
office, you can be returned to duty without a 
court martial." 

"Would you do that for me, Tom?" asked 
Flaherty gratefully. 

"I'll do all I can for you, Flaherty, for I do not 
hold you responsible for what you have done; but 
you had a mighty close call, and if whiskey serves 
you that way you ought to take warning and 
swear ofF." 

"That's just what I've been thinking, Tom, and 
I swear right now I'll never taste another drop." 

As I rode up to camp about sundown that day 
I noticed two or three mounted men far out on the 
high prairie, coming on the trail from Fort Larned. 
The field-glass made them out to be Wild Bill and 
John Adkins with a pack-mule, and Found trot- 
ting along with them. They soon reached us and 
dismounted and began unpacking. 

"Is supper most ready, boys?" asked Bill. 

"I'll have it ready," replied Jack, "by the time 
you're ready for it." 

"We've just got room in the stable for your 
two horses," I explained, "in place of the mule 
team Tom took with him, and I guess I'll take one 

i88 



TOM LOCKS THE STABLE DOOR 

of our broncos out and tie it behind the haystack 
to make room for your pack-mule, BilL" 

"Don't you do anything of the kind, Peck," 
repHed the scout. "That's one of Uncle Sam's 
mules, an' he'll do well enough tied in the lee of 
your haystack; in fact, it wouldn't hurt our horses 
much, either, to stand out." 

While Bill, Adkins, and I had been watering, 
feeding, and putting away the stock. Jack had 
been getting supper, and now stepped to the door 
of the dugout with his fiddle and sounded "mess 
call," to see if the scout would know what it 
meant. 

"That sounds pretty natural," said Bill to me, 
"let's go in an' see what he's got to show for it, 
for I'm as hungry as a coyote." 

As we gathered around the mess-chest I in- 
quired: 

"When do they expect the volunteers that are 
coming to relieve the regulars?" 

"Don't know a thing, only that they're on the 
road somewhere 'tween here an' Leavenworth. 
Now, if they were regulars you could calculate to 
the hour when they'd get here, for when they get 
orders to go anywhere neither hell nor high water'll 
stop 'em; but if a little bad weather strikes these 
volunteers, an' they can find a snug camping 
place, they're Kable to hang up for a week or two, 
an' put in the time stealing chickens an' playing 
cards." 

189 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

"How long do you and Adkins expect to be gone 
on this trip, Bill?" 

"Well, now, that's a sort of a * kin-savvy' case," 
he replied. "It depends on how soon we find the 
Injuns' camp. Maybe it'll take us a week — 
maybe two weeks or more — can't tell; but once 
we get onto their trail we'll soon overhaul 'em. 
John, here, says that ol' To hausen, the * Little 
Mountain,' an' his band is camped right down 
Walnut Creek, about half-way 'tween here an' 
Charley Rath's ranch — 'bout twenty-five miles 
from here." 

"Yes," said Adkins, "I was up to their camp 
'bout a week ago, an since that some of the Injuns 
was down to the ranch a-trading; but they don't 
know, for sure, where Satank an' the rest of the 
tribe is; but they thought we'd be apt to find 'em 
on the Smoky, or the Saline, or Solomon, or maybe 
on some of the little timbered creeks in between 
the rivers." 

"Do you think, Adkins," I asked, "that there 
is any likelihood of To hausen's band moving up 
this way? For it would bother our wolf-hunting 
business if they should come near us." 

"Oh, they may be a-moving camp now an' then, 
to get fresh grass for their bosses; but if they get 
to crowdin' on you, all you've got to do is to go 
to ol' To hausen an' ask him to keep far enough 
away so's not to interfere with your wolf poison- 
ing, an' he'll do it, for he's a pretty good ol' In- 

190 



TOM LOCKS THE STABLE DOOR 

jun, an* always tries to keep on good terms with 
the whites. There's only about a hundred men in 
his band, an' they're mostly ol' men what's had 
experience enough to know that it pays better to 
keep on good terms with Uncle Sam's people than 
to be bucking again 'em. But the most of the 
tribe now seems to be of the other way of think- 
ing an' have split off from ol' To hausen, who 
used to be head chief, an' taken to following the 
lead of such devils as Satank, an' Satanta, an' Big 
Tree; an' they're the ones we've got to look out 
for." 

"Where do vou expect to find the Kiowa trail, 
Bill?" 

"Well, from here, we'll follow this ol' lodge-pole 
trail; it turns ofF from the Walnut a few miles up 
the creek an' goes over to the Smoky Hill, which 
is about twenty miles from here; an' about oppo- 
site this point on the Smoky is a mail station on 
the Denver stage route, an' I reckon we'll be able 
to find out from the station men whether the 
Kiowas have gone up or down the river an' lay 
our course to suit." 

"When we first came here," I informed him, 
"it looked like the last travel over the trail had 
been about two months before — that would have 
been about September — and the tracks were going 
toward the Smoky Hill; but they might have been 
made by Cheyennes or 'Rapahoes." 

"We'll be apt to find an old moccasin, or a 

191 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

broken arrow, or somethin' dropped or thrown 
away on the trail, before we travel very far, 
that'll tell what tribe travelled it last," remarked 
the scout. 

"I noticed that you don't carry any picket- 
pin," I remarked; "how do you picket your horse 
out?" 

"I picket him to a hole in the ground. I dig a 
hole with my knife about a foot deep; tie a big 
knot in the end of my lariat; put it down in the 
bottom of the hole; fill in the dirt an' tamp it 
down hard as I can with my foot; an' that'll hold 
him 'bout as good as a picket-pin, an' saves the 
trouble, an' saves my horse the weight of the iron 
pin; an' I always try to lighten my horse's load 
of every ounce I can do away with. An' when 
I'm out by myself, or where there's nobody to 
Stan' guard at night, I make my bed with my head 
on my saddle, 'bout half-way 'tween my horse 
an' the end of my lariat that's buried, an' if any- 
thing strange comes in sight the horse'll begin 
running 'round at the end of his rope, an' dragging 
it over me'U wake me up." 

"Well, your way of doing these things is just 
about the same as we were trained to do in the 
cavalry," I remarked. 

"Why, of course," replied Bill, "for nearly all 
I know about scouting is what I learnt from the 
ol' cavalrymen an' ol' army officers. You take 
one of them ol' soldiers or officers that's been out 

192 



TOM LOCKS THE STABLE DOOR 

on the frontier fifteen or twenty years, an' what 
he don't know about such matters ain't worth 
knowing." 

In the morning, after breakfast, while assisting 
the two scouts to saddle up and pack their mule, 
Jack cut oflF an antelope ham and tied it in their 
pack, "to give them a starting of fresh meat," as 

he said. 

Taking up a position in front of Bill, Found 
stood wagging his tail and looking up pleadingly 
into his master's face, seeming to ask: "May I go 
with you?" 

"No, Found," said the scout, between whom 
and his dog there seemed to be a perfect under- 
standing, "you can't go. It'd be too long an' 
hard a road for you an' would wear you out. 
You must stay right here till I come back." 

Then, turning to me, he said: 

"You'd better get his chain an' collar an' I'll 
tie him to that post there, an' he'll know by that 
that I don't want him to go an' he'll not try to 
follow us after we leave." 

I brought the chain and Bill took it and tied 
the dog, petting and talking kindly to him, and 
then making him lie down, which seemed to satisfy 
Found that his master desired him to remain. 

"Let us hear from you. Bill," I requested, "as 
soon as you get back, will you, for I'd Uke to 
know how the Kiowas are feeling." 

"Yes, I will," he replied; "if I don't come back 

193 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

this way I'll come over from the fort soon after we 
get back." 

Mounting their horses — Adkins leading the 
pack-mule, while Wild Bill rode behind to drive it 
up — they crossed the creek below the beaver dam, 
and were soon out of sight behind the timber. 



194 



CHAPTER XVII 
VOLUNTEER TROOPS AT EARNED 

TOM returned from Fort Earned that evening. 
He hoped that his intercession for Flaherty 
would procure a mitigation of the usual penalty; 
but desertion, even under extenuating circum- 
stances, was too serious an offence to pass without 
at least a form of punishment. The culprit was 
put in the guard-house, with a fair prospect, how- 
ever, of being released and restored to duty before 

long. . 

The long-expected three companies of volun- 
teer cavalry had arrived to relieve the old garri- 
son, and as soon as the government property could 
be transferred from the old officials to the new, the 
old garrison — two companies of Second Infantry 
and one of Second Dragoons— would march away 
to Fort Eeavenworth. A week later our old com- 
rades, the regulars, were gone. 

On his return from his next visit to Fort Earned, 
two weeks later, Tom had much to say about the 
lack of discipline shown by the volunteers at the 
fort, and as we gathered around the mess box, after 
putting the mules away, he continued his com- 
plaints. 

195 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

"The volunteers don't know anything about 
soldiering," said Tom, *'an' the officers are no 
better. It nearly broke my heart to see the miser- 
able imitation of military service they're gettin' 
off. 

"Now, to give you an idea of their style, com- 
pared with regulars, what would you think to 
see a buck private in his dirty fatigues come 
a-saunterin' up to the adjutant's office, flop him- 
self down in a chair, hoist his muddy boots up 
onto a table, push his hat back, an' say to the 
commanding officer, who was occupying a similar 
position on the opposite side of the table: *Well, 
Joe, what do you think of this layout, as far as 
you ve got r 

"Oh, come now, Tom," said Jack with an in- 
credulous smile, "you don't expect us to believe 
such a yarn as that?" 

"It's gospel truth," exclaimed the old man. 
** Here's another sample of how they do it: A cap- 
tain was standin' in front of the adjutant's office 
smokin' a cigar, an' a corporal strolled up to him 
an' asked: *I say. Cap, have you got the mate to 
that about your clothes?' " 

"Peck, do you believe him?" said Jack, ap- 
pealing to me; and without waiting for my an- 
swer, he continued: "I do be afeared Tom's been 
mixin' his drinks." 

"Here's another one," said Tom. "A lieuten- 
ant an' about a dozen men come out of their 

196 



VOLUNTEER TROOPS AT EARNED 

quarters an' started straggling off toward the 
stables, an' I followed 'em to see what they were 
up to. They went into the stable an' went to 
saddling their horses to go somewheres. By and 
by the Heutenant got his horse saddled an' called 
back into the stable: *Are you all ready there, 
boys?' Some were ready, an' come leadin' their 
horses out; but one fellow called back to him: 

* Don't you get in such a rush there now, for I've 
got to put my spurs on yet.' Another fellow said: 
*rve got a notion not to go, for I told the ser- 
geant not to put my name on this detail.' *0h, 
yes, John, you'd better come along. We'll have 
a good time,' said the Heutenant, kind of coaxing 
him. 

"Well, after callin' back again to the man who 
hadn't got his spurs on, an' getting the answer 
that he was about ready, instead of giving his 
commands in military style, to 'Lead into Hne!' 

* Count fours!' * Prepare to mount!' * Mount!' 
'Form ranks!' an' then move out 'by fours,' how 
do you suppose he did it? Well, sir, he just says: 
'Well, get on your horses, boys,' an' climbed onto 
his horse, an' started off, saying as he looked back 
over his shoulder: 'Come ahead, fellows.' An' 
they straggled off after him. 

"Well, they're good enough men, on an aver- 
age, I guess," continued Tom, "an' will make good 
soldiers if they just had the right sort of officers 
over 'em; for good officers make good soldiers, an' 

197 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

vice versa. But how can the bhnd lead the blind ? 
Their officers can't instruct the men, for the offi- 
cers don't know anything about military matters 
themselves. An' it's one of the truest sayings 
that ever was said that * familiarity breeds con- 
tempt'; an' if an officer, or even a non-com, ex- 
pects to command the respect and obedience of 
them that's subject to his orders, he's got to hold 
himself aloof from 'em, to a reasonable degree; 
an' he's got to prove himself competent to com- 
mand 'em." 

Naturally, Jack and I became very anxious to 
go over to the fort and see things for ourselves, 
and when the time came for going after our next 
mail and taking in another load of wolfskins 
Tom agreed to let us both make the trip, on a 
strict promise from Jack that he would not taste 
liquor. 

At the post we found the state of affairs about 
as Tom had represented. Officers and men seemed 
equally ignorant of military affairs and especially 
of frontier service. 

While loafing about the sutler's store next day, 
Weisselbaum came out of his back room and, call- 
ing me to one side, said confidentially: 

"I've got a job for you. Peck, and there's good 
pay in it, too. It's this way: There's a young 
man here. Lieutenant Lang, in command of one of 
these companies; he's got plenty of money; his 
father's rich an' furnishes him plenty. He's a 

198 



VOLUNTEER TROOPS AT LARNED 

first-rate fellow. But he's considerably embar- 
rassed just now," he continued; "the captain of 
the company has been away from it for several 
months, leaving the lieutenant in command, and 
during that time he has received a lot of govern- 
ment property, for which he's got to account, of 
course, and he's kept no accounts and has noth- 
ing to show what's become of this stuff. You see, 
he's in a bad fix, and unless he can find some one 
who understands these affairs to help him out, he's 
going to have to pay the government several hun- 
dred dollars — maybe as much as a thousand or 
two — out of his own pocket, or his daddy's 
rather. He stated his case to me and asked if I 
knew of any one that he could get to straighten 
up his company papers; and when I saw you I 
remembered that you used to be company clerk 
in your old company at Fort Riley, and I thought 
you would know how to help him out of the 
scrape, if anybody would. He'll be willing to 
pay you big for it. What do you say to the 
job?" 

"I hardly know what to say," I replied. "I'll 
have to consult my partners over at the camp 
before I can give an answer. It may be that I 
can arrange with them to get away from the wolf 
hunting business long enough to do this work for 
the lieutenant, but I can't promise it till I con- 
sult Tom and Jack." 

"Well, come back into my office," said Weissel- 

199 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

baum, "and let me make you acquainted with 
Mr. Lang, and you can talk it over with him." 

On following him into his back room I was in- 
troduced to a pleasant-looking young officer of 
about twenty-five, who wore the uniform and 
shoulder-straps of first lieutenant of cavalry, but 
whose appearance showed evidences of dissipa- 
tion. He seemed pleased to find a man who un- 
derstood Uncle Sam's ways of transacting business, 
and still more gratified when I told him that I 
thought possibly I could find means to relieve him 
of a part, if not all, of his accountability; which he 
knew meant not only the saving of so many dol- 
lars, but would prevent an official investigation 
that might result in his dismissal from the service. 
I told him I could not promise to take charge of 
his papers and begin on the work until I had con- 
sulted my partners. He would pay me a hundred 
dollars, he said, to make the effort and do what I 
could for him, and two hundred if I succeeded in 
clearing him of all his accountability and put his 
company papers in good shape, so that his com- 
pany clerk could thereafter keep them straight. 

I promised him that I would return in a day or 
two probably prepared to go to work on his ac- 
counts. This so pleased him that he called for a 
bottle of champagne, in which, however, I de- 
clined joining him and retired, leaving him and 
Weisselbaum drinking the wine. 

Jack and I had seen enough of the rawness of 

200 



VOLUNTEER TROOPS AT LARNED 

these volunteers to fully corroborate Tom's re- 
ports, and as we drove back to camp I informed 
my comrade of the proposition I had received for 
straightening out the tangles in which the lieuten- 
ant had involved himself. 

**How long*s it going to take you?" he asked. 

"About two or three weeks, I think," I repHed. 

"Well, of course we'll let you off for that long, 
in consideration of the big pay you'll be getting." 

When we got to camp and I had stated the 
proposition to Tom, he replied promptly: 

"Jump onto it, by all means. You won't often 
find such chances as that for making money lay- 
in' around loose on the plains or anywhere else. 
That's big money for a little work. Jack an' me'll 
give you a leave of absence long enough to make 
yourself a nice little wad on the side." 

"No, Tom," I answered. "I won't have it that 
way. We have agreed, all along, that this is a full 
partnership of the firm of Vance, Flannigan & 
Peck and that whatever we make or lose we are 
to share equally. Jack insisted on this rule when 
he captured Black Prince, and I shall insist that 
whatever I make on this work shall be turned into 
the general fund." 

"Well, suit yourself about it," said Tom indif- 
ferently; "any way to keep peace in the family. 
We'll call it detached service you're on, then, in- 
stead of a leave of absence." 

The matter being settled, next day I rode Prince 

201 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

over to the fort and began looking up material to 
begin the work in hand. By searching the ad- 
jutant's office and quartermaster's store I found 
the requisite blanks and books for opening up a 
full set of company accounts, including muster 
and pay rolls, for I found the lieutenant had little 
or nothing in the way of papers except the invoices 
of property he had received. Having duly estab- 
lished an office in one of Lang's rooms and got 
everything ready for business, I said to the lieu- 
tenant: 

"Now, Mr. Lang, in order that you may get 
the full benefit of my services in this work, it is 
best that you have your first sergeant and com- 
pany clerk in attendance here whenever they can 
be spared from their other duties, and let me be 
instructing them, so that they can continue the 
work after I get things straightened out for them." 

"A good idea," he admitted. "I'll go over to 
his office and have a chat with the sergeant about 
it, and if he thinks he'd like to learn your style 
of keeping accounts I'll invite him to come over 
and see how you do it and bring his clerk along." 

"Why, lieutenant," I said in some surprise at 
this evidence of slack discipline, "I thought you 
were in command of the company." 

"So I am; so I am. Why?" 

"Well, in that case, it's your place to order the 
attendance of your sergeant and clerk and their 
place to obey promptly." 

202 



VOLUNTEER TROOPS AT EARNED 

"Yes, yes. That's the way you do in the regu- 
lars, I suppose; but, you know, we ain't so par- 
ticular in the volunteers, and I find it's best to 
keep on good terms with my first sergeant 'cause 
he'll make trouble for me if I cross him." 

"Well, excuse me; I forgot myself," I replied 
with ill-concealed disgust. "I wasn't employed 
by you to teach you discipline. But if you can 
persuade your sergeant to come over, I'll see if I 
can interest him in these papers." 

But the sergeant refused to take instructions 
from "one of them swell-headed regulars who 
think they know it all." The company clerk, 
however, cheerfully placed himself under my tute- 
lage and picked up the work rapidly. 

By taking invoices of the property Lieutenant 
Lang had on hand and comparing them with the 
invoices of what he had received, I soon found 
what was deficient. I then set his men to work 
looking about the post and gathering up, from 
among the rubbish and castaway property aban- 
doned by the outgoing garrison, every old article 
of quartermaster's and ordnance stores and camp 
and garrison equipage that could be found. I 
then asked the lieutenant to call on the command- 
ing officer for a board of survey, who inspected 
and condemned the stuff and ordered it burned, 
thereby relieving Lang of his accountability for it. 

There was still a considerable shortage of arms 
and things that I could not pick up about the post 

203 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

and get condemned, but, on learning that this com- 
pany had been engaged in a skirmish with the 
rebels in Missouri recently, I covered a consider- 
able deficit on the returns as "lost in action," on 
the affidavits of soldiers, and accounted for some 
other stufF as legitimately "worn out or expended 
in the public service." 

By these and other methods usually resorted to 
in the regular service to cover deficiencies I soon 
had Lieutenant Lang's accountability reduced to 
the property he actually had on hand; and, while 
doing so, instructed his company clerk so that 
thereafter he could easily keep the accounts in safe 
shape. 

My work for Lang attracted considerable at- 
tention from the other company commanders and 
they soon got to dropping in to consult me in re- 
gard to making out papers and all sorts of mili- 
tary matters. 

At the expiration of my contract. Lieutenant 
Lang cheerfully paid me the two hundred dollars — 
which I deposited with Weisselbaum to the credit 
of the firm — and expressed himself as glad to get 
out of his recent dilemma so cheaply. 

While at this work I was often one of the busiest 
men about the post. These officers, though inex- 
perienced, were gentlemanly fellows, and not hav- 
ing had that regular army legend ground into them 
about the impassable gulf between the enlisted 
man and the commissioned officer, though know- 

204 



VOLUNTEER TROOPS AT EARNED 

ing that I had but recently been a private soldier, 
treated me as an equal. Even the major com- 
manding often consulted me on technical affairs, 
and offered to use his influence to procure me a 
commission in the regiment if I would join his 
command, which kind offer I declined with thanks. 
I had made up my mind not to bind myself to 
Uncle Sam again, though — after this wolf hunting 
campaign — I planned to enter the service as a 
scout or wagon-master or in some civilian capac- 
ity that would give me more freedom than as a 
soldier or officer. 



205 



CHAPTER XVIII 

BILL RETURNS FROM HIS SCOUT 

TOURING the time I Had been at work on 
^^ Lieutenant Lang's papers there had been an- 
other heavy snow, but it had soon passed oiF. 
Tom had come over to the fort once or twice, re- 
porting all serene at Camp Coyotelope; and about 
the time I had finished my job and was preparing 
to return to wolf skinning, Wild Bill and John 
Adkins came into the post, returning from the 
main Kiowa camp by way of old To hausen's vil- 
lage on Walnut Creek. 

"When are you going over to Camp Coyote- 
lope?" asked Bill after first greetings. 

"To-morrow morning," I replied. 

"Well, I've got to make my report to the com- 
manding officer an' turn in my pack-mule," said 
the scout, "an' if there's nothing special for me 
to do here right away I reckon I'll ride over with 
you an' take a few square meals with the boys." 

"All right," I replied. "I'll be glad to have you 
go along with me. Will Adkins come, too?" 

"No. He says he's got to go back to Rath's 
ranch in the morning, soon as he can get his 

206 



BILL RETURNS FROM HIS SCOUT 

voucher from the quartermaster for this trip an' 
get it cashed at Weisselbaum's/' 

"So this new quartermaster is short of green- 
backs and has to pay off in vouchers, hey?" 

"Yes, an' Weisselbaum only discounts 'em 
twenty-five cents on the dollar. But I won't sell 
my voucher at any such robbery figures. I don't 
need the money very bad here, an' so I'll just let 
it stand till the quartermaster gets the funds, or 
if he don't get the truck by spring I'll take my 
vouchers to Fort Leavenworth where I can get 
all they call for." 

Finding nothing requiring his immediate at- 
tendance at the post. Bill easily obtained permis- 
sion to go over to our camp, notifying the quarter- 
master where he could be found in case he was 
needed. 

As we rode along he told me about his trip to 
Satank's village. 

"As I expected, we picked up the Kiowas' trail 
over on the Smoky Hill, followed it up, an' found 
'em in a snug-timbered camp over on the Solomon. 
They'd moved to this camp from another one a 
few miles up the river since the blizzard, because 
while that big snow was on the ground they'd had 
to chop down all the cottonwood-trees about that 
camp to furnish feed for their ponies and in case of 
another big snow catching 'em in the same camp, 
the feed there would have been pretty scarce. An' 
they'd just about got settled down in the new camp 

207 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

when this last snow come on. Me and Adkins 
were in luck, too, for this last snow come next day 
after we reached the Injun camp; an' during all 
the time it lay on the ground me and John were 
making ourselves as agreeable an' comfortable as 
possible in ol' Satank's lodge. I knew what a 
sour ol' cuss he is, an' the best way to get on the 
good side of him an' find out what he is up to 
was to go right to his tepee, an' let on that we'd 
come to pay him a special visit. 

"We found that the Injuns didn't have much 
of anything to eat but meat, so we brought out 
our sugar an' coffee an' hardtack an' bacon an' 
treated the ol' man an' his family to some extra 
good grub — for them; an' I'd took along some 
beads an' colored handkerchiefs an' trinkets for the 
women an' youngsters. But, sir, that durned old 
rascal would eat my chuck an' take presents, all 
right, but when I'd try to pump him he was the 
most ignorant Injun you ever saw — I couldn't get 
a thing out of him. But then I didn't expect to 
find out much from Satank himself, for I know 
him of old. 

"I made friends with Satanta and Big Tree, too, 
an' gave them some presents, an' now an' then 
invited 'em over to headquarters to smoke an' 
eat an' drink coffee with us, but they were pretty 
foxy, too, and didn't seem to know anything when 
I tried the pump on them. So when I found the 
head men were so close-mouthed I dropped them 

208 



BILL RETURNS FROM HIS SCOUT 

an' let on as though I wasn't seeking for informa- 
tion; but I made myself solid with the women by 
making them presents of a lot of little trinkets, 
an' I knew if I went about it in an offhand way 
they'd tell me all they knew, for, you know, I can 
talk their language just Hke a Kiowa. 

"It pleases them women for a white man to take 
notice of 'em an' talk to 'em an' be sociable like, 
for their own men don't pay 'em much atten- 
tion. 

**I soon found out about all the women knew, 
which wasn't much, however; but from what I 
picked up amongst 'em, an' from the general 
signs, the head men ain't a-feeling very friendly 
toward the whites, an' as soon as grass comes in 
the spring I suspect we'll have trouble with 'em." 

**Do you think they'll go on the war-path. 
Bill?" I asked. 

**No, I don't think they'll go to war openly or 
in a body, but they'll probably scout around in 
little bands, watchin' their chances an' doing a 
little mischief here an' there on the sly, whenever 
they see a good chance to dodge in, hit a lick, an' 
dodge out again without making an open rupture. 
But they promised to come down to Fort Larned, 
as soon as the grass begins to come in the spring, 
to have a powwow with the officers an' Injun 
agent, 'cause there's a chance of some presents in 
that, an' they're always ready to take all they can 
get an' more, too." 

209 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

"What seems to be their principal grievance 
against the white men?" I asked. 

"Well, it's the old song about the white men 
killing oflF their game. But, then, we all know 
that's just an excuse, for the game on the plains 
is plenty enough for all an' what little the whites 
get away with ain't missed. Of course, if they 
were to come around here an' see how many buffalo 
bones you fellows are leaving on the prairie they 
might think you were getting more than your 
share. But you've got just as much right to kill 
buffalo an' wolves, or any other game, as the In- 
juns have. Anyway, it ain't likely they'll get down 
this way before grass comes, an' you fellows'll be 
done skinning wolves an' gone before that time." 

"I hope so," I replied. "I have no desire to 
renew my acquaintance with Satank. How about 
old To hausen. Bill; is he still camped at the same 
place .^'* 

"Yes, his band was still camped about twenty 
or twenty-five miles down Walnut Creek from 
your camp; but To hausen was getting ready to 
move up your way, too, an' I reckon by this time 
he's moved. I told him about you fellows a-poi- 
soning wolves and that you were particular friends 
of mine, an' asked him not to move up close 
enough to you to bother your work, an' he prom- 
ised me he would keep far enough away so's not to 
trouble you. He's a pretty good ol' Injun, To 
hausen is, an' he's always been a good friend of 

210 



BILL RETURNS FROM HIS SCOUT 

mine, an' I'm sure he'll not let any of his people 
interfere with you. Some of his outfit'll be apt 
to look you up in a few days, an' if they come to 
see you you must treat 'em well." 

"Of course we will," I replied, "for we want to 
keep on good terms with them." 

At Camp Coyotelope, which we reached in time 
for dinner, Bill had to repeat to Tom and Jack 
all he had told me about his trip to the Kiowa vil- 
lage. During the afternoon we lounged about 
camp and at the approach of evening Jack and I 
saddled up and made the round of the wolf baits, 
putting out fresh strychnine for the night, and re- 
turned to camp in time to help demolish an excel- 
lent supper. 

That evening Tom suggested to the scout: 

"Bill, while you're here, suppose you an' me 
ride down to oV To hausen's camp to-morrow 
to see where he is an' make sure that he ain't 
a-crowding on our huntin'-ground — ^what do you 
say? 

"It's a whack, Tom; I'll go you!" replied Bill, 
"an' we'll have a fair understanding with the ol' 
man about how far he's to allow his people to 
range up this way." 

In the morning they saddled up and started to 
go to the Indian camp, but to our surprise Bill and 
Tom were back at camp by noon, just as Jack and 
I were getting ready for dinner. 

"Why, what brought you back so soon.^" I 
asked as they rode up and dismounted. 

211 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

"Well," replied Tom, as they began unsaddling, 
"we found their camp only about eight miles 
down the creek — a little closer than I Uke to have 
'em, but the Injuns promised that they wouldn't 
hunt up this way any farther or do anything to 
drive ofF the game in our range; but what brought 
us back so soon was that when we got there we 
found oV To hausen sick in bed, an' I think he's 
threatened with a severe spell of pneumonia; an' 
after having a friendly talk with his people and 
watching the ol' man's symptoms, I made up my 
mind what was the matter with him, and I con- 
cluded that I'd hurry right back to camp and get 
some medicine for him and then go back and try 
to fetch the old man out of it. I'm sure he's got 
a serious case of lung fever, and if something ain't 
done to head it off pretty pronto he'll go up the 
spout. I learned a good deal about doctoring 
when I was hospital steward, an' I think I've got 
everything except one that I need for the treat- 
ment of this case in my little medicine-chest. 
Bill's going back to Fort Larned after dinner, and 
I want you to go with him and bring out the med- 
icine that I'm lacking. You can go over to the 
fort this afternoon and get the stuff an' come 
back to-morrow forenoon and then bring it down 
to the Injun camp to me in the afternoon; for I'll 
go right back after dinner and go to work on the 
old man and try to head off that fever before it 
gets too strong a hold on him." 

212 



BILL RETURNS FROM HIS SCOUT 

As we entered the dugout and sat down to din- 
ner I thought to ask; 

**What medicine is it that you want me to get, 
Tom? You forgot to tell me the name of it." 

With a mysterious wink at me when Jack was 
not looking, he answered: 

*'ril write the name of it down on a piece of 
paper after dinner. You'd forget it if I told 
you." 

When we went out to saddle up after dinner, 
leaving Jack to clean up the dishes, Tom said: 

"The medicine I want you to get at the fort is 
nothing but a pint of commissary whiskey, but I 
didn't want to mention it before Jack. The doc- 
tors use it in pneumonia as a stimulant, diluted, 
an' given in tablespoonful doses. I've got every- 
thing else I need, and I'll take my little medicine- 
chest along with me down to the Injun camp in 
case there should be other sick ones that I'd want 
something for." Then he added: "You'd better 
take Prince to ride over to the fort and back. I 
rode him down to the camp, but he'll be good for 
your trip. I'll ride ol' Vinegar down to the camp 
this time; an' when you get back here to-morrow 
you can leave Prince here an' ride the gray mare 
or one of the mules down to the camp. By the 
way, while I think of it, I must take along a couple 
of candles an' a few more matches; for I'll have to 
be getting up in the night 'tendin' to the old man, 
an' there's no such thing as a light to be had in an 

213 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

Injun lodge without a body goes to the trouble of 
starting up a blaze in the fire. 

"I've got to keep on the right side of that old 
medicine-man that's doctoring the old chief now," 
said Tom; **aad Vd like to teach him something if 
I could." 

Soon we were ready and started, Bill and I can- 
tering ofF on the trail while Tom struck out down 
the creek. 

On arriving at Fort Larned, knowing that Lieu- 
tenant Lang always kept a demijohn of whiskey 
in his quarters, I procured a pint bottle of the 
"medicine" Tom desired and spent the night at 
his quarters. 

Just before going to the officers' mess for supper 
with Lieutenant Lang that evening, thinking that 
it would be an interesting trip for him, I had sug- 
gested to him that he go out to our camp and see 
something of the Kiowas with whom later he 
might have some dealings. He declined to go on 
the ground that the weather was wintry and the 
ride a long one. 

Captain Saunders, who was present, expressed 
surprise that Lieutenant Lang did not jump at the 
chance and said to me: 

"Mr. Peck, if I can get leave of absence from 
the major, may I accompany you on this trip to 
the Indian camp?" 

"Certainly, captain," I replied. "I'll be de- 
lighted to have you go along." 

214 



BILL RETURNS FROM HIS SCOUT 

The captain joined us later and told me that he 
had easily obtained the desired permission, but 
asked me to say nothing about it to other com- 
pany officers, lest more of them should wish to go, 
for the major didn't think it best to spare more 
than one on such an errand. 

The next morning we set out and, after a long, 
cold ride, reached Camp Coyotelope. During the 
whole ride the captain kept plying me with ques- 
tions about our past frontier service, evidently 
wishing to gain all the information he could about 
his new line of duty. He was a very pleasant and 
gentlemanly, young man, and although ignorant of 
military usage, he evinced a commendable eager- 
ness to inform and qualify himself for his position. 



215 



CHAPTER XIX 
A NIGHT IN THE KIOWA CAMP 

TX /"E reached the dugout just before noon, and 
^ ^ after unsaddHng, watering, and feeding our 
horses and partaking of a good dinner that Jack 
had prepared we saddled up again. I now rode 
the gray mustang, as Tom had suggested, and on 
one of our mules packed my bedding for the use 
of Captain Saunders and myself at the Indian 
camp. We struck out down the creek for the 
Kiowa camp, I leading the mule and the captain 
bringing up the rear. This kind of campaigning 
was a revelation to Captain Saunders and seemed 
to interest him greatly. 

At the Indian camp Tom was anxiously awaiting 
me, and seemed surprised to see me accompanied 
by the officer, whom I introduced, explaining the 
occasion of his visit. 

Under the impulse of his long and strict mili- 
tary training, Tom came to ** attention" and sa- 
luted and seemed somewhat surprised at the 
captain's proffered hand. In the regular service 
hand-shaking between an officer and a soldier or 
ex-soldier would be considered a breach of army 
etiquette. Quickly comprehending the situation, 

216 



A NIGHT IN THE KIOWA CAMP 

Tom grasped the extended hand and thereafter 
appeared to feel on terms of perfect equality with 
the officer. 

"I can't allow you to see old To hausen," Tom 
explained, "he's too sick to see company; an I 
can't devote much time to your entertainment 
myself, captain, but Til tell the Injuns to try an 
make your visit agreeable; an' you an' Peck'll 
have to get along the best you can." 

Tom turned to an old Indian, who, he said, was 
next in rank to To hausen, and explained to him 
in Mexican who we were and the object of our 
visit. The old warrior then in a loud voice made 
an announcement to the camp in the Kiowa 
tongue, after which he repeated to Tom what he 
had told his people. 

**This old fellow," explained Tom to the cap- 
tain, **is named Lobo. He told the Indians that 
I said: 'These two white men are our good friends. 
One of them is a captain of soldiers from the fort. 
They heard that our chief was very sick and they 
have come all the way from the fort to bring some 
more good medicine for To hausen. They are 
good men an', Kiowas, you must be good to 'em. 
Our camp an' all that we have is at their service. 
Make them welcome, Kiowas.' 

"Now," continued Tom, "as Lobo says, 'the 
camp is yours.' He has given orders to his women 
to unsaddle your horses an' unpack your mule, 
an' some of the youngsters will drive your animals 

217 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

out an* put 'em in the herd. He has also ordered 
the women to clear out one half of his lodge for 
your use, an' your saddles an' beddin' will be car- 
ried in an' placed there, where you are to sleep. 
You are at liberty to go where you please about 
the camp, enter any lodge you choose, an' you'll 
find 'em all friendly and agreeable; an' you an' 
everything you have will be perfectly safe so long 
as you are their guest. Now, you'll have to ex- 
cuse me, for I must go to my patient." 

"By the way, how is the old chief.?" asked the 
captain. 

"Pretty feeble. His age is against him, for he 
must be up in the seventies. I'm getting the 
fever pretty well under control, and if he gets no 
backset I think I can pull him through. I have 
my bed close by him an' I try to keep the lodge 
at as even a temperature as possible; but I have 
to do most everything myself, for these Injuns 
can't be made to savvy how to take care of the 
sick. Now, I must go." 

After seeing our animals sent out to the herd 
and our saddles and bedding taken into Lobo's 
lodge, we went inside, spread our bed, and then 
took a stroll about camp. Everything here — the 
Indians, their dress and habits — ^was new, strange, 
and deeply interesting to Captain Saunders, who 
had never before seen a wild Indian. 

Noticing To hausen's dilapidated old ambulance 
standing near his lodge, I said; 

218 



A NIGHT IN THE KIOWA CAMP 

"Captain, do you see that old government am- 
bulance?" 

"Yes," he replied, "and I have been wondering 
at it and was going to ask you if many of the In- 
dians have such vehicles?" 

"No. I don't know of another Indian on the 
plains who sports an ambulance or any other 
wheeled vehicle to ride in. I must tell you how 
he came by this one. In the spring of '59 the 
Kiowas were becoming restless, and disregarding 
the warnings and advice of the old chief, who was 
always friendly to the whites, they were inclined 
to follow the lead of Satank, who is always un- 
friendly. They were threatening to go on the 
war-path. Our command of four companies of 
First Cavalry, under Major John Sedgwick, was 
sent out on the plains from Fort Riley with orders 
to range along the Arkansas River to try to keep 
the Indians in subjection. The Pike's Peak gold 
excitement was at its height then, and an out- 
break of the Indians would be a serious affair. 
Old To hausen tried hard to keep the Kiowas 
peaceable, but succeeded in holding only this small 
band of about a hundred warriors, the rest of the 
tribe following Satank. To hausen often visited 
our camps and our officers often gave him and 
his adherents presents. Our quartermaster. Lieu- 
tenant James B. Mclntyre, had this old ambu- 
lance on hand, and, as it was about played out, he 
got it condemned by a board and was thinking 

219 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

of burning it to get rid of the old trap, when it 
occurred to him to make a present of it to To 
hausen if he would accept it. The old fellow 
was very much pleased to think of riding about in 
such a rig as our commanding officer sometimes 
used. Lieutenant Mclntyre had his blacksmith 
put the old rattletrap in serviceable shape; and 
then put harness on a pair of the old chiefs mus- 
tangs and had them broken to work by some of 
the soldiers and turned the outfit over to To 
hausen. But neither he nor any of his men could 
learn to use the lines and, after a few efforts they 
dispensed with the lines altogether, and, putting 
a boy on each bronco of the team, they have since 
navigated the ambulance in that shape. Indian- 
like, they generally travel at a gallop, whether the 
ground is smooth or rough, and often break some- 
thing, but they tie it up with rawhide to hold the 
parts together till they can get to Fort Larned or 
Fort Lyon, and then the quartermasters have 
their men patch it up again for the old man." 

As evening approached we returned to the home 
of Lobo, where a good fire burning in the centre 
of the lodge made it quite comfortable except for 
the smoke that nearly blinded us; but by lying 
down on our blankets we found we could avoid 
this discomfort. 

Tom dropped in for a few minutes to see how 
we were getting along and to tell us that under 
the stimulating influence of the whiskey I had 

220 



A NIGHT IN THE KIOWA CAMP 

brought the old chief was showing a decided 
improvement. 

Two women had for some time been busy cook- 
ing a meat stew in a kettle that hung over the fire. 
After a time I brought out and gave them some 
coffee, sugar, and hardtack that I had brought 
in my saddle pocket to add to the meal. After 
lifting the big kettle off the fire, the women, with 
a great horn spoon, ladled out a dishful of the 
stew to each of the guests first, and then to Lobo. 

We ate hungrily. Lobo was the last one to 
** throw up the sponge'* and announce his perfect 
satisfaction by a prolonged Indian grunt, and 
then as he leaned back against a pile of bedding, 
he added: **Muy wano!" 

Before eating I had handed a plug of tobacco 
to Lobo, who had whittled off enough to fill a 
great red-stone pipe and then returned the plug 
to me. I tried to induce him to keep the plug, 
but he declined. As Tom had intimated would 
be the case, a number of men dropped in after 
supper to call on Lobo and his white visitors, and 
the big red pipe was then brought out, lit with a 
coal of fire, and put on its travels, each taking a 
puff and passing it to the next. 

The Indians evidently appreciated the free 
tobacco I was furnishing, for the pipe was soon 
smoked out, refilled, and emptied again and again, 
till all were fully sated. After this some talk was 
indulged in, and then the visitors went out one 

221 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

by one, till only the captain and I and Lobo's 
family remained. Saunders and I soon after re- 
moved our coats and boots and turned in. 

During the evening the woman had carried in 
several armfuls of wood and piled it convenient 
to the fire in the centre of the lodge, and, the 
weather being quite cold, she got up several times 
during the night to replenish the fire. 

Saunders and I were both awake by daylight, 
but, as our host and his family and the dogs still 
seemed soundly sleeping, we kept our bed for 
a time to avoid disturbing them. Finally, old 
Lobo crawled out and, wrapping his buffalo robe 
around him, went outside the lodge. In a few 
minutes we heard him, in a loud voice, haranguing 
the camp, and a few minutes later the camp was 
all astir. 

After breakfast, on telling Lobo that we wished 
to return to our camp, two of his boys drove the 
herd into camp and roped our animals, which 
were quickly saddled and packed. 

I took the remains of the plug of tobacco and 
the packages of sugar, coffee, and hardtack out 
of our saddle pockets, carried them into Lobo's 
lodge, and laid them down. 

Captain Saunders, feehng disposed to reward 
the two boys for taking care of our animals, of- 
fered each a silver half dollar. Their young eyes 
brightened at sight of the money, for they knew it 
would buy them something nice at the trader's 

222 



A NIGHT IN THE KIOWA CAMP 

store, but a hesitating glance at Lobo seemed to 
decide them to refuse the proffered gifts, and with 
a pleasant, "No quiero, sefior'* ("Don't want 
it, sir''), which their looks beHed, they turned 
away. 

"Give them to me, captain," I said, "and Fll 
place them where they won't reject the money." 
I carried the two silver pieces Into the lodge and 
put them with the other things. No objection was 
made to my leaving these presents where they 
could be found, but Indian hospitality forbade 
them openly to accept gifts from a guest. 

At dinner Jack proposed that Captain Saunders 
and he should go out that afternoon and kill some 
buffalo and put out some poison. The captain 
was eager to go, for he was quite without experi- 
ence in this form of sport. After Saunders was 
armed, equipped, and mounted he and Jack rode 
away and I turned to and attended to the dinner 
dishes. 

It was near sunset when they got back to camp, 
reporting that they had killed and poisoned some 
buffalo, and Captain Saunders had killed also an 
antelope, the carcass of which he had tied on be- 
hind his saddle and brought in. 

"L'ave the captain alone for the makin's of a 
plainsman," exclaimed Jack as he dismounted 
and began unsaddHng. "He'll need but Httle 
more instruction from any of us. He catches 
on quick. He'll soon be like an old hand at the 

223 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

business. An' that horse of his is all right, too. 
Ain't a bit afeard of a buffalo an' goes at 'em like 
he was used to it." 

"Possibly the captain has had more experience 
of this kind," I suggested inquiringly, "than we 
have supposed." 

"Not a bit of it," replied Saunders. "This is ac- 
tually my first glimpse of frontier life; but I have 
always been interested in such matters and have 
read everything I could find on the subject and 
have talked to old plainsmen and in that way 
have acquired some ideas of such things. I wish 
I could stay with you a week or two and hunt 
buffalo and antelope, for it is noble sport; but this 
isn't what Uncle Sam is paying me for, and I must 
go back to Fort Larned to-morrow. Still, I con- 
sider this time well spent, for the experience I am 
getting out here is certainly valuable to one who 
expects to do service on the plains." 

"We shall be sorry to lose your company, cap- 
tain," I replied; "but, if you are going In to-mor- 
row, why not take your antelope along as a trophy 
of the trip ? The weight will not be much, and we 
can fit it behind the cantle of your saddle and tie 
it on so it will ride nicely." 

"Yes," added Jack, "but that will have to be 
done to-night, for it'll freeze hard before morning, 
and then you can't fit It on. I'll fix it now." 

He placed Saunders's saddle upon some sacks of 
grain, bent the antelope carcass to fit snugly be- 

224 



A NIGHT IN THE KIOWA CAMP 

hind the cantle, tying the feet down to the cinch 
rings, and left it to freeze in that position. 

After supper Jack played the fiddle awhile, and 
we sang some songs; but Saunders seemed more 
interested in drawing us out to tell of our soldier 
experiences on the frontier and kept us yarn 
spinning till late bedtime. In the morning, after 
breakfast, he struck the trail for Fort Larned. 



225 



CHAPTER XX 
WE TRADE WITH INDIANS 

T70R the next week or two, although the weather 
-*- had turned stormy, Jack and I put in all the 
time we could at poisoning and skinning wolves. 
It was now getting well along in February — near- 
ing the close of the season for taking pelts. We 
had already taken about twenty-five hundred 
and were anxious to make our winter's catch an 
even three thousand before quitting. 

Tom's patient, old To hausen, had so far re- 
covered that Tom had returned to our camp, but 
still made an occasional visit to the Kiowa vil- 
lage, where, on account of his success in treating 
the old chief and others, his services as medicine- 
man were now much sought by the afflicted In- 
dians, to the utter neglect of old Broken Nose, 
their own medicine-man, who seemed jealous of 
Tom's popularity. 

One day Jack had gone out alone, riding old 
Vinegar the buckskin bronco, to kill some buffalo, 
and in a short time he came back to camp afoot, 
carrying his saddle and bridle. 

"What's happened.? Where's Vinegar?" we 
asked anxiously. 

226 



WE TRADE WITH INDIANS 

** Vinegar's done for — dead," he answered as he 
threw down the saddle and bridle, *'an' Fm in big 
luck myself to be here to tell it. It was this way: 
I was chasin' a bull, an' shot him but had got too 
close or the bronco was too slow turnin' to get 
away — anyway the bull got his head under Vine- 
gar an' heaved both him an' me into the air, an' we 
come down in a heap; but by good luck the buffalo 
went on without stopping to make further fight, 
or he might easy have finished both of us. I 
scrambled to my feet, Vinegar still lying where he 
fell, with his paunch ripped open an' entrails hang- 
ing out. With a great effort he got up onto his 
feet, but his insides were hanging to the ground, 
and there he stood a-looking at me pleading like 
an' a-groaning as much as to ask me to put him 
out of his misery, which was all I could do for 
him; so I put my pistol to his head and finished 
him." 

On Tom's next trip to the Kiowa camp, on 
mentioning to old To hausen the bronco's being 
killed, the old chief had his herd driven in, and 
selecting a good pony — one he had used in his 
ambulance and so knew its working qualities — he 
insisted on Tom's taking it to replace Vinegar. 

About this time, the weather having apparently 
settled for a mild spell. Captain Saunders and Wild 
Bill came over from the post on their way to the 
Kiowa village. 

Since returning from nursing the old chief, Tom 

227 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

had said little about the ill feeling that he had 
stirred up in old Broken Nose, the Kiowa medi- 
cine-man, but, overhearing a conversation be- 
tween him and Wild Bill, I learned that Tom was 
feeling uneasy about this. He suspected that 
Broken Nose had sent a message to Satank which, 
he feared, boded us no good. He asked Bill to 
try to find out something about it. 

After their return next day, at supper Tom in- 
formed us that while at To hausen's camp Bill 
had discovered that old Broken Nose had really 
sent to Satank a secret message, the bearer of 
which had not returned. Bill could not learn 
what the message was, but from the old Indian's 
evident hostility toward Tom, and from certain 
unfriendly remarks he had been heard to make 
concerning our killing so many buflPalo and other 
game, there were good reasons to suspect that his 
purpose was to stir up Satank's well-known ani- 
mosity toward the whites in general, and direct 
his attention to us in particular, in order to even 
up with Tom by bringing the hostiles down on us. 

Some of To hausen's people had told Bill, in a 
friendly way, to warn us to be sure to close up our 
work and get away from here, or else look out for 
trouble from Satank's band as soon as the new 
grass began to come; but they did not seem to 
think that Satank's horses would be in condition 
for him and his warriors to make a raid on us be- 
fore the grass got up. 

228 



WE TRADE WITH INDIANS 

The fact that a few of To hausen's followers 
denied the report that Broken Nose was trying 
to make trouble for us led Bill to conclude that 
some of them were not so friendly to us as they 
pretended. After stating the situation, Tom 
went on: "Bill says it ain't likely that Satank will 
be in a condition to make any move for two or 
three weeks yet, and by that time we'll be done 
skinning wolves and out of here; but there's a pos- 
sibility that the old rascal may make a forced 
march, in order to catch us before we can get 
away. In that case we may have to fight. He 
might be able to find a few of his ponies that are 
able to travel and mount a party of his men and 
ride over here to see what we're doing; or, if he 
and his bucks get very anxious for a row, they 
might make the trip afoot. Anyway, from now 
on, we've got to keep a sharp lookout for Injuns 
or fresh signs in this neighborhood, an' also a close 
watch of To hausen's camp; for if Satank should 
come over this way he'd be apt to go there first 
thing. To hausen himself an' most of his people 
are friendly to us, but it's more'n likely that some 
of 'em'U be ready to give Satank any information 
about us that he wants." 

Wild Bill had seemed rather serious and thought- 
ful this night — and it was so uncommon for him to 
remain serious long at a time that it attracted my 
attention — and as we were about to turn in he 
remarked: 

229 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

"Boys, as Tom says, it's best to be prepared for 
emergencies, and if anything serious should hap- 
pen to you, such as Satank an' his warriors a-loom- 
ing up of a sudden and a-jumping your camp or 
corralUng you, an' you could manage to send word 
to me, the captain an' I'll mount some of his sol- 
diers and come right over. Now, I'll tell you how 
you can send me word" — untying a bead necklace 
which he wore around his neck. "I'll leave this 
with you. Hang it somewheres handy, and if you 
have need of help just write a few words on a slip 
of paper, tie it 'round the necklace, then hold the 
necklace to Pound's nose and let him get the scent; 
then tie it 'round his neck, point to the fort, and 
say to him: *Go to Bill!' He'll savvy, for he's 
been trained to it, and he'll go a-flying till he gets 
to my quarters. Now, mind you, you may not 
have any occasion to send for me at all; you're 
likely to finish up your wolf skinning an' get away 
from here before Satank gets around; but if any- 
thing should happen that you need us, do as I've 
told you, an' we'll come a-curling and help you 
out. Is it a whack. Cap?" appealing to Saun- 
ders. 

"It is," replied the captain, "and to be prepared 
for such a call — though I hope they'll have no oc- 
casion to make it — I'll have an understanding with 
the major when I get back, so that if it should 
come in the night I will be allowed to take my 
company out of the post as quickly as possible, 

230 



WE TRADE WITH INDIANS 

without calling on him or disturbing the rest of 
the garrison." 

"That's a good idea/' added Bill. ''It'll save 
a heap of time." 

"Well,'* said old Tom, "we'll try an' not put 
the captain an' Bill to so much trouble unless it's 
a case of dire necessity. I hardly think that Sa- 
tank will make war on us, an' if he should, we're 
pretty well fixed for fighting an' can give him a 
good tussle before we call on our neighbors for 
help." 

"I'm not scared about it," replied Bill, "an' I 
know you boys ain't, for this is just an emergency 
arrangement. But I tell you right now, Tom, if 
there's any fighting an' you don't give me a show 
I won't like you for it." 

I took the bead necklace and hung it in a con- 
spicuous place on the wall, Httle thinking that we 
would ever have occasion to use it, and sincerely 
hoping that we would not; but I felt that both Bill 
and Tom, who understood Indian ways best, really 
anticipated trouble with them and were mentally 
preparing to meet it. 

After the departure of our guests next morning 
each of us went about his accustomed duties as 
usual. 

After several days had passed and nothing had 
occurred to arouse our uneasiness we gradually 
regained our accustomed assurance, but I know 
that while out hunting or skinning wolves I was 

231 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

more keenly watchful than formerly, and sev- 
eral times on returning to camp I had noticed Tom 
coming down from the nearest bluff with the field- 
glass in his hand, indicating that he had been 
scanning the surrounding country. 

I noticed, too, that lately, whenever the team 
was sent over to the fort, in addition to the usual 
batch of baled wolfskins, Tom was now sending 
other stuff, such as surplus grain and provisions — 
anything, in fact, that could be dispensed with in 
the camp and reduce our outfit, as he said, to 
"light marching order,'' for we thought now in a 
couple of weeks more we would be ready to break 
up camp and go in. 

Of the three. Jack was by far the most indiffer- 
ent, for, as he said, *'It's time enough to bid the 
divil good morning when you meet him." 

Since To hausen's band had located near us we 
had had frequent visits from some of his people, 
when the weather was fair, and had struck up 
quite a profitable trade with them for buffalo 
robes, dressed deer and antelope skins, with a few 
otter, beaver, panther, wildcat skins, and the like, 
paying for them in coffee, sugar, flour, or tobacco. 
And since returning from his attendance on the 
old chief Tom made it a point to visit him every 
few days, ostensibly to see how the old fellow was 
getting along, but more particularly to try to find 
out if any intercourse was passing between Sa- 
tank's band and To hausen's. 

232 



WE TRADE WITH INDIANS 

To hausen seemed sincere in his efforts to be- 
friend Tom and, so far as he could, kept Tom in- 
formed; but for obvious reasons he had to be secret 
about it. Not much going and coming between 
the two bands was to be expected, however, for 
the weather was still quite severe and stormy a 
great part of the time, the distance between the 
two camps considerable, and Indian ponies at this 
season of the year were poor and weak. 

In our traffic with the old chiefs people we had 
given them a liberal exchange for their skins and 
peltries — far more than they would have received 
from the traders — we being satisfied with about 
one hundred per cent, profit on the goods we traded 
them instead of three to four hundred per cent, as 
was the custom with men regularly engaged in the 
trade. 

The Indians were not slow to see that we were 
giving them more for their stuff than they usually 
received from the traders, and our commerce with 
them increased. Soon we found that we were 
gathering in so much of this material that it be- 
came a serious question how we were going to 
smuggle it into our storeroom at Fort Larned, or 
beyond there, without Weisselbaum's knowledge, 
or, in case we sold our skins to him, how to ac- 
count for those we had traded from the Indians. 
He had a trader's license from the government, 
and we had nothing of the kind. According to 
law, we were trespassing on his rights, in which 

233 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

the commanding officer at Fort Larned was in 
duty bound to protect him. When we began 
trading with the Indians we had not thought of 
these difficulties, but, having got into it, we deter- 
mined to bluff it out and trust to luck for some 
future plan to suggest itself to us for getting 
through. 



234 



CHAPTER XXI 

JACK^S CLOSE CALL 

/^N the plains a prairie fire is always something 
^^ to be dreaded, for with the usual breeze, which 
often amounts to a gale, a fire in heavy, dry grass 
is almost invariably uncontrollable and a source 
of terror to the luckless traveller who happens to 
be in its track. 

Such a fire originates most commonly from the 
embers of a camp-fire — left by some careless or 
inexperienced traveller — blown by a rising wind 
out into the adjacent dry grass or, in the spring 
of the year, by fires purposely set out in the old 
grass by the Indians to clear the ground for the 
next crop. 

An essay might be written on prairie fires and 
the dangers from them and on the best means of 
fighting them. I have now only to tell of how 
one of us was caught in one. 

For the next few days after Wild Bill and Cap- 
tain Saunders had left us we were all busy taking 
in wolf pelts. The season was fast passing, and 
we yet lacked several hundred skins of the three 
thousand that we had declared that we would 
gather before quitting. 

235 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

One cold, windy day, when a gale was blowing 
from the northwest. Jack started out alone and 
afoot — he said it was too cold and windy to ride — 
to kill a few buffalo wolf baits. 

Crossing the creek below the beaver dam, to 
look for buffalo in the prairie beyond, he soon 
passed out of sight, while Tom and I busied our- 
selves taking up the dried skins and baling them. 
We heard the report of Jack's carbine occasionally 
and knew by the direction of the sounds that he 
was to windward of camp — about northwest. 

After Jack had been out for some time Tom 
took the field-glass and went up onto the bluff 
south of our camp, from which he could view the 
prairie north of the creek. 

He gazed long and intently through the glass in 
Jack's direction and presently started back to 
camp on a run. 

I knew that something unusual was up. We 
had heard no uncommon firing from Jack, but, on 
seeing Tom hurrying down the hill, my thought 
was: "Indians about or Jack's in trouble." Drop- 
ping my work, I rushed down into the dugout, 
seized both rifles, and, with a few blocks of car- 
tridges, ran back up onto the bank again, looking 
first toward Tom and then to the timber north of 
us. There was no sign or sound of an enemy. 

When the old man arrived, breathless from run- 
ning, he noted my preparations for war and gasped 
out as fast as he could catch his breath: 

236 



JACK'S CLOSE CALL 

"No! no Injuns! See the big smoke over the 
tree tops? Prairie's all afire out that way! Com- 
in' fast! Fm afraid Jack's caught in it. I saw 
him just before I noticed the fire. He was out 
in the bottom 'bout midway between the timber 
and the lodge-pole trail, a-working on a buffalo 
he'd killed, and just then I noticed a lone Injun 
riding along the trail the other side of Jack; and 
I saw the infernal rascal halt when he got right to 
windward of Jack, and dismount and squat down 
in the grass; and then come a pufF of smoke and 
the prairie was afire. And then the Injun got on 
his pony and galloped along the trail a piece and 
fired the grass again. And this he repeated several 
times. The cuss had seen Jack and fired the grass 
to try to burn him up, and I'm afraid he's done it, 
for I don't see how Jack could escape without he 
could fly, for when I left the bluff the fires had all 
run together and were a-coming toward Jack like 
a race-horse, in a wall of flames that seemed to 
leap twenty feet high at times." 

"What can we do, Tom?" I asked. "Can't we 
do something to help him?" 

"I don't see what we can do," replied the old 
man with a look of despair, "but you run down to 
the stable and clap the saddle onto Prince, and 
be ready to go and look for what's left of him soon 
as the fire burns out. It'll stop when it gets to 
the creek and quick as the smoke clears away so's 
you can stand it, you be ready to light out." 

237 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

I rushed to the stable and he followed me, talk- 
ing as I saddled up. 

"Near as I could make him out through the 
glass, I believe it's that infernal old Broken Nose 
that's done this job. It looked some like him 
and I noticed he climbed on and off his pony like 
an old man." 

I soon had Prince saddled and led him up onto 
the bank, where we impatiently waited what 
seemed an endless time but was really only a few 
minutes. 

The fire was now roaring and crackling just be- 
yond the strip of timber bordering the creek. The 
smoke would probably have been stifling in our 
camp by this time, but on striking the timber the 
wind had given it an upward pitch that sent most 
of it above us. 

The fire kept up such a roaring and rushing noise 
that I began to fear that the wind might carry 
some of it across the creek, but as soon as it entered 
the timber on the north side, where the grass was 
shorter, a marked subsidence was apparent. 

I mounted and moved up to the south bank of 
the creek, anxious to be off on my search for Jack, 
but a dense cloud of smoke and flying ashes 
whirled through the trees from the burnt ground 
for some minutes after the fire seemed to have ex- 
hausted its fury, and, impatient as I was, I yet 
had to wait before venturing to enter the burnt 
district. As soon as I could endure it I crossed 

238 



JACK'S CLOSE CALL 

the creek and started, still half blinded and choked 
by the flying smoke and ashes, which so obscured 
my vision that I could see but a short distance 
ahead. The fire now was all gone except here and 
there a few buffalo-chips still burning, but the hot 
smoke-and-ashes-laden air was stifling. 

I struck a gallop, to hurry through the worst 
part of the ground, and soon began to get out into 
a little clearer atmosphere, and was greatly re- 
joiced to see Jack coming toward me though yet 
some distance oflF. I noticed that though he was 
coming with the wind he walked unsteadily, as 
though nearly exhausted, stopping now and then 
to sit down and rest. The air was yet so murky 
that he had not noticed me until I came near him, 
when, staggering to his feet from an old buffalo 
skull he had been sitting on, he waved his hand 
weakly and tried to whoop, but the effort set him 
to coughing as he halted and leaned on his rifle. 
As I reached him I noticed that his wolfskin over- 
coat that he wore at starting from camp was miss- 
ing and his other clothes were much soiled, ap- 
parently having been wet in places, coated with 
adhering soot and ashes, and now frozen by the 
cold wind. 

"Why, Jack!" I exclaimed as I reined up and 
dismounted, "how in the world did you live 
through the fire.^ And how did you get your 
clothes wet?'* 

"In the buffalo," he answered as he again began 
coughing, 

239 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

*^In what?" I asked in perplexity. ^*In a buf- 
falo?" 

As he attempted to explain, still coughing, I in- 
terrupted him with: 

"Never mind, Jack; don't try to talk. I savvy. 
Here, let me help you on Prince, and when we get 
to camp you can tell us all about it." 

Helping him on the horse, I walked alongside of 
him to camp, but insisted that he should not try 
to talk until his lungs got clear of the smoke and 
ashes he had inhaled. 

When he had answered my questions as to how 
he had escaped the fire and got his clothes wet by 
replying, "In the buffalo," I was at first puzzled; 
but gradually the explanation dawned on me. He 
had tried the exploit I had read of to him and Tom 
the other night out of Cooper's "The Prairie." 

On reaching camp I hurriedly told Tom of 
Jack's exploit and his condition and suggested 
that no questions be asked for the present. We 
helped him into the dugout and put him to bed. 
I explained to Tom how, as I conjectured. Jack 
had escaped the fire but the Irishman was not in 
a condition to tell us about that, though it was 
with difficulty that we kept him from trying to 
talk. 

By the next forenoon our Irishman was able to 
talk without much difficulty. 

"Well, sir," he began in a weak voice, "I be- 
lieve it's the closest call I've had this long time, 

240 



JACK'S CLOSE CALL 

and I never want to get into such another tight 
place, where breath is so scarce. I'd killed the 
buffalo and begun ripping open the hide to skin it 
back, and just then I got a smell of grass a-burning, 
and, looking up, I saw in a jiffy what a trap I was 
in and no way out of it unless I could fly. Sud- 
denly I thought of that skame that Peck read 
about the other night, and in a minute I was cut- 
ting and slashing in blood up to my shoulders. 

"I ripped open the throat and cut off the wind- 
pipe and cut loose everything around the lights 
inside as far as I could reach. Then I started in 
behind the brisket and ripped open the belly and 
reached in and got a holt of the windpipe and 
begun pulling the entrails back, and all the time 
I was too busy to look up to see how nigh the fire 
was a-getting; but I knew by the smoke thick 
around me and the roar of the fire that I didn't 
have any time to fool away. 

"When I got the in'ards dragged out I placed 
my wolfskin coat over the opening I'd made in 
the breast and then propped up the short ribs and 
flank with me carbine so's I could crawl in, and 
in I went, pulling my carbine in after me; and 
none too soon, either, for the fire was roaring 
around me and I could smell the wool a-burning 
in a second after I'd got inside. 

*'And then's when I begun to smell hell for 
sure! The little bit of fresh air that was inside 
the buffalo soon gave way to hot smoke, and oh, 

241 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

man! it was horrible! I hope I may never come 
so nigh suffocation again. 

"After the fire had passed and I began to 
breathe again, I felt weak and all gone, hke I 
hadn't strength enough to crawl out of the carcass. 
I wondthered whether you would ever find my re- 
mains. I laid there awhile and by and by I began 
to feel better, and then I crawfished out back- 
wards. After shaking myself together I says to 
myself, says I, * Never say die, Jacky boy! You're 
better than two dead men yet, so you are!' And 
picking up my carbine I made a brave stagger for 
camp, but if you hadn't met me with the horse 
It's a long time I'd 'a' been getting here, so I 
would." 



242 



CHAPTER XXII 
SATANK ARRIVES 

'FARLY March found us closing up our affairs 
■*-' at the camp, preparatory to starting back to 
the settlements. We had succeeded in taking a 
few more than our three thousand wolfskins; and 
in addition to these we would have nearly a wagon- 
ful of bales of the dressed buffalo robes and other 
skins we had traded for with To hausen's people, 
together with the beaver, otter, antelope, and other 
pelts we had taken in our camp. 

We had hauled all our baled wolfskins over to 
Fort Larned and stored them there as fast as they 
accumulated, but retained in camp for the last 
load our otter and beaver skins and the peltries 
we had gotten from the Indians; for we thought it 
best not to bring these latter under the notice of 
Weisselbaum, for fear he should make trouble for 
us for encroaching on his Indian trade. 

As a prospective buyer he had kept close watch 
of our wolfskins, as we stored them, and was anx- 
ious to buy our whole catch; but we had stood 
him off, saying that we thought we could do better 
with them in Leavenworth. We had heard that 

243 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

Kitchen's freighting train from New Mexico was 
on the road, going in empty, and would pass 
Fort Larned in a few days, and had decided that 
if we could not get Weisselbaum up to our figures, 
we would ship them in that way. 

After an early dinner, Tom and Jack had started 
for the fort with the mule team, taking a partial 
load of the last of our wolfskins — a half dozen 
bales — and some camp plunder. 

I do not think that my comrades were as much 
alarmed as I was at the thought of the hostiles 
dropping in on us. They seemed to be borrowing 
no trouble on that account and, for fear of being 
ridiculed by them for my cowardly fears, I had 
kept my thoughts on this subject to myself. 

On this day we had all seemed unusually jolly; 
even Tom's grim features occasionally relaxed into 
a pleasant smile at some sally from our wild Irish- 
man. Our spirits were high, for we had grown 
tired of buffalo hunting and wolf skinning, with all 
the attendant hardships and excitements, and were 
now eager to get back into *^ God's country" with 
our profitable cargo of skins, to reap the reward of 
our winter's hard work. 

As I stood looking after Tom and Jack as they 
drove away, I thought: "To-morrow they'll be 
back, and the next morning we'll load up the last 
of our camp outfit and will soon be beyond the 
reach of Satank and his crowd." 

While still standing on top of our dugout 

244 



SATANK ARRIVES 

watching the receding wagon a growl from Found, 
at my feet, caused me to look down at him; and 
following the direction of his look, down the ravine 
toward the timber, I saw an Indian boy afoot 
stealthily approaching, every now and then casting 
furtive glances behind him as though fearful that 
he might be seen by some one in the timber. I at 
once recognized the boy as one of To hausen's 
sons and, quieting the dog, awaited his approach. 
Following a path skirting the edge of the water 
in the ravine, when he had reached the platform 
between our dugouts, he again looked cautiously 
about and beckoned me to come down where he 
stood. 

When I neared him he said in his broken EngHsh : 

"To hausen, my fadder, he say tell you, *look 
out! Satank cominM'" 

And then asked, looking anxiously into my face: 

"You savvy?" 

"Yes, but where? When?'' I hastened to ask 
excitedly. 

"Kin savvy seiior," replied the boy, "that all 
To hausen, he say, that all; 'look out, Satank 
comin'!' Pretty pronto, I 'speck. Now I mus' 
vamose. Satank he see me here, he kill me." 

And quickly turning he sneaked down the ravine 
till he reached the brush and disappeared. 

To say that I was alarmed at the sudden shock 
to my recent feeHng of confidence is to put it 
mildly; but I realized that there was no time to 

245 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

waste in idle regrets at the unfortunate turn of 
affairs. I felt almost helpless and could not de- 
cide what to do to prepare for the danger. 

Rushing into the dugout I seized my carbine 
and, going again up onto the dirt roof, I fired sev- 
eral shots in the hope that possibly the sound might 
reach my companions, who were still in sight, 
slowly climbing the hill about two miles away. It 
was no use — the wind was blowing from them to 
me, and they moved steadily on, evidently not 
hearing me. 

I was hesitating whether to jump on Prince, 
ride after them and hurry them back to prepare 
for a probable call from the hostiles when a surly 
growl and bark from Found drew my attention 
another way, and I was almost frightened out of 
my wits to see two mounted Indians coming, one 
behind the other in single file, along the trail lead- 
ing from the ford below the beaver dam. 

They were on the opposite side of the ravine — 
the stable side — so I moved down onto the plat- 
form between the dugouts, where I would have a 
better position, still hoping that they would turn 
out to be some of To hausen's people; but a thrill 
of something akin to horror ran through me on 
looking closely at the foremost Indian when he 
had reached the top of the bank a few feet from 
me, for I recognized the sinister countenance of 
Satank. 

To let him know that I recognized him and 

246 



SATANK ARRIVES 

understood his probable feelings toward me, I 
swung my carbine into a threatening position and 
called out, "Halt!" at the same time making the 
sign to him to stop where he was. 

He halted at the command, as did the other In- 
dian in the rear, and, while keeping a close watch 
on both to see that they drew no gun on me, I 
demanded in a defiant tone: 

"Halloo, Satank, what do you want here?" 

Satank made no reply, but motioned his com- 
panion to his side. 

I recognized the man as a half-breed, called Mex- 
ican Joe, who had sometimes been used as an in- 
terpreter at Fort Wise. Joe was evidently to act 
as interpreter now. 

In my defiant attitude and speech I was assum- 
ing much more self-confidence than I really felt; 
but I wished to impress them that I distrusted 
them, understood their intentions, and was pre- 
pared to stand them off or fight. However, neither 
of the savages made any threatening movement — 
the time was not ripe for declaring war — they had 
evidently come on a reconnoitring expedition. 

As soon as the interpreter had moved up to 
him Satank spoke a few words to Mexican Joe, 
who asked in broken English : 

"Where your pardners.? Other mans? Where 
wagon?" 

"Gone down to To hausen's camp," I said. 

"He say, * Maybe so you he,' " said Joe, making 

247 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

the sign of the forked tongue; then continued, 
**Any mans in casa — house?" nodding toward the 
dugout. 

"Yes," I replied. 

Apparently wishing to see the inside of our 
house — or to get the drop on me In some way — 
after a few more words between them, Joe said: 

*'He say: * White man come to Kiowa's camp 
Kiowa feed him. Satank he hungry. Want to 
go In casa, eat with white man — be good amigos.'" 

I replied: 

**Food all gone. Pardners gone with wagon to 
bring some buffalo meat. Tell him to come again 
when pardners get back. I'll give him plenty to 
eat. 

Of course, Satank did not believe this, and I did 
not care. I wished to stand him off, for I was de- 
termined that he should get no closer Inspection 
of our situation than he already had. I felt sure 
that he had a party of his warriors close about — 
probably in hiding in the timber — and that he 
had come on a spying tour. 

Satank evidently recognized me as one of the 
actors in an episode that took place at Fort Wise 
when I was in the service, and asked a number of 
questions about it. To all these I replied by deny- 
ing any knowledge of the event. The interpreter 
said, however: 

"He say: *You can't fool him. He know you.'" 

I was in dread all the time that they might lift 

248 



SATANK ARRIVES 

their eyes to the upland prairie in the direction of 
Fort Larned, where our white-covered wagon was 
still in plain view; but a Httle swell of the prairie 
hid it from them. 

After exchanging a few more words in their own 
language, Joe turned to me and said : 

"Adios, good-by, seiior. We go — vamose." 

Backing away a few steps, they turned ofF 
around the butt of our haystack, and made for the 
crossing of the ravine just above our dugouts. 
Here they examined the ground closely, evidently 
looking for fresh tracks of our wagon and mules to 
see which way they had gone. 

As soon as they crossed the ravine I returned to 
my station on the dirt roof of our dugout where 
I could watch their movements. When they 
reached the higher ground and our Fort Larned 
trail the fresh tracks of the team gave them their 
clew. Pointing to the fresh signs, Satank's eyes 
followed the course of the trail until he caught 
sight of the wagon in the distance, just as it 
seemed to reach the crest of the high prairie about 
three miles away. With an excited exclamation he 
pointed out his discovery to his companion, and 
then mounting rode ofF at a lively gait. 

I conjectured that Satank would either pursue 
the wagon or bring his men to attack my position 
— probably both. In either case it was of the 
utmost importance that I warn my comrades, 
which now seemed an impossibility; and while 

249 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

fretting at my helplessness I looked down at 
Found, at my feet, and the inspiration came. 
"Good!" I shouted, **ril send the dog!" 
Rushing down into the cabin I seized a piece of 
paper and hastily wrote on it: 



Look out for Satank and his gang ! They are after 
you ! I am 0, K., so far. 

Peck. 



Quickly tying this slip to Found's collar and 
taking down an old cap of Tom*s from which to 
give the dog the scent, I hurried back on top of 
the dugout. I spoke to the dog and then pointed 
to the covered wagon, still plainly visible, and for 
fear he did not see it I lifted him up in my arms, 
pointed again to the far-ofF wagon, repeating the 
names, "Tom — Jack!" 

The intelligent creature looked up into my 
face, as I set him down, and then at the wagon, 
barked and wagged his tail vigorously as though 
he thought he understood me. I then pointed 
again to the wagon, held Tom's old cap to his 
nose, and said, ^^Go to Tom^^ motioning with my 
hand toward the wagon. 

Found looked carefully all around, as though to 
see if there were any Indians about, and then in- 
stead of following the wagon tracks, as I supposed 
he would, he started down into the bottom of the 
ravine, the head of which led toward the wagon; 

250 




" Go to Tom." 



SATANK ARRIVES 

and after going a few rods, stopped and looked in- 
quiringly back at me, as if to ask: "Am I right?'' 

"Yes, yes,'' I answered impatiently as I mo- 
tioned him away, "go to Tom! go to Tom!" 

The dog seemed now fully to comprehend my 
wishes, and lit out up the ravine on a lively run, 
now and then disappearing from my view for a 
moment in the sinuosities of the gulch. 

I turned to go down into the cabin to get the 
field-glass, the better to watch the progress of the 
dog, and in doing so I instinctively cast my glance 
in the direction of the point of timber where Satank 
and Joe had entered a few moments before, and 
there saw a party of mounted Indians hurrying out 
of the woods and starting across the prairie after 
the team. 

The Kiowas were about as near the wagon as 
Found, and it seemed that it would be a close race 
between the dog and Indians as to which would 
reach the team first. With the field-glass I 
watched the advance of Indians and dog with ex- 
cited anxiety. The pursuers and my messenger 
had entered broken ground between the creek val- 
ley and the upland, and I could catch only occa- 
sional glimpses of them. To get a better view I 
climbed up on the derrick, where we usually hung 
our fresh meat, which gave me a few feet more of 
elevation. I tried to count the Indians as they 
started in pursuit of the wagon and made out that 
they numbered about forty. 

251 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

I had watched first Found and then the Kiowas 
through the glass until the dog had proceeded so 
far that he had passed out of sight on the upland, 
still running; and the Indians could only be seen 
at intervals; but I could not tell which was nearer 
the wagon. The Indians were approaching it 
from the right and rear, while Found would be 
coming from nearly behind. Tom and Jack, I 
knew, would be sitting on the seat in the wagon, 
under cover of the sheet, unsuspicious of danger; 
the rattling of the wagon would drown any noise 
of the galloping Indians; and their first intima- 
tion of the presence of the Kiowas — unless Found 
reached them in time — would be a volley of 
bullets and arrows as the redskins surrounded 
them. 

I focussed my glass steadily on the white wagon 
cover, knowing that the halting or turning of the 
team would indicate that my messenger or the 
pursuers had reached them. If Found got there 
first the team would stop; Tom and Jack would 
discover the Indians and then quickly jump out, 
unhook the mules and tie them to the wheels of 
the wagon; and then I would hear the reports of 
their rifles first. If the Indians got there first and 
surprised my comrades I would probably hear 
the reports of the Kiowas' rifles before the wagon 
stopped, and the frightened mules would then 
start on a run. 

Riveting my gaze on the wagon, I was presently 

252 



SATANK ARRIVES 

gratified to notice it halt, and a moment later the 
two familiar reports of Sharp's carbines assured 
me that they, Tom and Jack, had got my warning 
and had fired the first shots. 

"Good!" I shouted when I heard their rifles. 
"Ten to one an Indian saddle or two was emptied 
by those shots!" 

Then a straggling rattle of firearms, with now 
and then the report of a Sharp's, indicated that 
the fight was on. The bobbing up and down of 
the heads of galloping Indians passing between me 
and the wagon showed that the redskins were 
circling around the team; and as they passed to 
right and left of the wagon they seemed to be 
keeping a respectful distance. 

The firing slackened. Just then some mounted 
men and animals came running in my direction, 
and as they came near enough to be distinguish- 
able through the glass I made out that the two 
team mules had gotten away from Tom and Jack, 
after being unhitched from the wagon, and were 
now making for camp, chased by a number of 
Kiowas. The Indians soon caught the mules and 
led them back. 

The firing had now nearly ceased. Of the 
wagon I could only see the white cover. The In- 
dians seemed to have formed a circle around my 
comrades and were probably waiting for night to 
enable them to crawl up near enough to make their 
rifles eff"ective. This they could do in the dark- 

253 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

ness, and by digging rifle-pits at close range around 
the wagon they would have Tom and Jack under 
a circle of rifle fire by daylight. 



254 



CHAPTER XXIII 

SURROUNDED BY KIOWAS 

AS the shades of evening crept over the plain it 
-^ ^ became impossible for me to see anything dis- 
tinctly. The occasional reports of their carbines 
assured me that my companions were still standing 
off the savages. 

I kept asking myself: "What can I do to help 
them?" But there was no reply. 

I had no inclination to eat or sleep but prepared 
for a long, dismal night of watchfulness. After 
attending to the horses in the stable I went into 
our dugout and carried out some blankets and a 
buffalo robe, and, making a snug bed in the re- 
mains of our haystack, where I could command a 
pretty good view of our camp and surroundings, I 
settled down for a long night of torturing anxiety. 

I had scarcely got settled when a slight noise 
from up the ravine attracted my attention, and, 
quickly jumping to the conclusion that some of 
the Indians were already looking for me, I strained 
eyes and ears to locate the one who had made the 
noise. 

I soon discerned a dark object coming down the 
hollow, but, instead of the catHke tread of an ap- 

255 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

proaching Indian, with rushing gallop and joyous 
bark Found came bounding up to me. In the 
semidarkness I saw something whitish about his 
neck, which I knew must be a message from Tom 
and Jack. 

Rushing into the dugout, I lit a candle, and, un- 
tying from Found's collar a piece of paper, I read 
Tom's hastily scrawled note: 

Peck: The Injuns have got us corralled and got the 
mules. Both of us wounded but not bad. Laying under 
the wagon with the bales of wolf skins around us. Send 
us a few carbine cartridges by Found, and put BiWs neck- 
lace on him, so we can send him on for Bill. Look out 
for yourself. Tom. 

"No time to be lost," I said to myself; and, sit- 
ting down, I quickly wrote on the reverse side of 
Tom's note: 

Bill: Come quick with soldiers. Tom and Jack are 
about three miles out on Lamed trail. Read other side, 
I am 0. K. at camp, so far. Peck. 

I fed the good dog, and, tying up four packs of 
Sharp's rifle cartridges — ten in a pack — in an old 
handkerchief, I made ready to send Found off. I 
first intended to tie the package around his neck 
but decided that he could more easily carry it by 
the mouth. 

I tied my note to his collar, gave him a secure 
hold of the handkerchief of cartridges in his teeth, 

256 



SURROUNDED BY KIOWAS 

and taking down BIlFs bead necklace from the 
wall I held it to his nose a moment to give him 
the scent, repeating as I did so, ''Go to Bill! Go 
to Bill!" according to his master's instructions. 

Found wagged his tail and looked at me as 
though he understood my wishes. I felt sure he 
would first go to Tom and Jack, who would take 
the cartridges, read my note to Bill, take off the 
necklace and give him a fresh scent, and send 
him on to the fort. 

The tired dog had before him a long and dan- 
gerous run of about twenty miles, during which he 
would have to pass twice through the cordon of 
watchful Indians surrounding my comrades; but 
it was the only hope of saving the men, and Found 
seemed able and wilhng for the undertaking. 

I felt confident that if the Kiowas did not kill or 
cripple him. Found would make the trip quickly. 
He had already evaded the Indians in returning to 
camp, and I felt strong hopes that his almost 
human inteUigence would carry him through. 

Found's first move on going out of the dugout 
was to go up on the roof and stand there for a 
little while sniffing the air. Then he turned and 
trotted to the ravine, up which he went at a run. 
My nest in the hay was a good enough point 
for observation but not for defence, but I went 
back there to think things over. 

The waning moon would rise about midnight. 
If the Indians waited till then before attacking I 

257 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

should command a somewhat clearer view of my 
surroundings. 

I thought that the dog should reach the wagon 
in an hour after leaving me and felt sure that it 
would not be long after that before he set out on 
his longer run to the fort. This should take two 
or three hours, and I could only guess the time 
that would be occupied in awakening Bill and his 
dressing and rousing Saunders and then getting 
out Saunders' company. It seemed to me the 
troops ought to be on the way by midnight at 
the latest, and they ought to reach my companions 
in two hours from that time. 

I had heard no shots from the direction of the 
wagon since dark, but a long time after the dog 
had left me, and while I was watching for the ris- 
ing moon, I heard a shot or two, apparently from 
the rifles of the Indians, with no reply from the 
guns of my comrades. I supposed — rightly, as I 
afterward learned — that Found had reached the 
wagon and that the two men, by lighting matches 
to read my note, had drawn the fire from the In- 
dians. On the other hand, it seemed to me pos- 
sible that the Indians might have seen the dog and 
killed him. 

At length a little light appeared in the east. 
The moon was about to rise, and it must be after 
midnight. When the moon looked over the tops 
of the timber and the light grew, I began to scru- 
tinize objects in my vicinity and thought that a 

258 



SURROUNDED BY KIOWAS 

little way down the ravine I saw something like a 
wolf. It seemed to change its position a little sev- 
eral times, but remained too long in one place to 
be a wolf. 

I was considering going into the dugout to get 
the field-glasses but had not yet moved when 
suddenly a streak of fire, rocket-Hke, shot up from 
the object I had been looking at, described a 
graceful curve, and struck in the hay a few feet 
from me. It was a fire-arrow shot by an Indian, 
to set fire to the haystack. The Indian could not 
have known that I was lying in the hay but 
thought that by firing it he would draw me out of 
the dugout and in the light of the fire would get 
a good shot at me. 

I knew it would be folly to try to extinguish the 
blaze that at once sprang up. I jumped up, gath- 
ing blankets and buffalo robes in my arms, to run 
across to the dugout, and as I rose and showed up 
against the blaze I heard the crack of a rifle, and 
felt the shock of a bullet in the bundle in my arms. 
I was not hurt and dashed for the cabin door, and 
as I entered on a run I heard the report of another 
rifle from up the ravine and the spat of the bullet 
on the door-frame. The hay was now burning 
briskly, but I felt no anxiety for our horses in the 
stable almost under the fire, for the thick dirt roof 
protected them. 

I closed and barred the door and then scrambled 
through the tunnel up into the tent and looked out 

259 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

through a port-hole which gave a good view for 
fifty yards up and down the valley. 

I caught a glimpse of the Indian who had fired 
the hay as he looked out from behind a projecting 
bank, but could not see enough of him to justify 
shooting in the uncertain hght. Of the Indian 
who had come near hitting me as I entered the 
cabin, I could see nothing. As I turned to look 
again at the first Indian I saw him stealthily move 
out from his concealment, crouching down, appar- 
ently peering at the cabin door. Pushing the muz- 
zle of my carbine through the port-hole in front of 
me, I took as careful aim at him as I could and 
fired. I saw that I had hit him, for he dropped 
his rifle, fell, and rolled into the water but quickly 
scrambled back to his hiding-place and did not 
again show himself; but the flash of my rifle had 
been seen by my watchful neighbor up the ravine, 
who an instant later sent a bullet through the top 
of the tent over my head. 

Presently the hay burned out and only the faint 
light of the moon showed the indistinct objects to 
me. Still I could see well enough up and down the 
ravine so that neither Indian could approach the 
door of the dugout without being seen. I had been 
standing on a bale of skins, which enabled me to 
look out of the port-hole, but now got down and cut 
another port-hole near the bottom of the tent, so 
that while lying protected by the bales I could 
watch for the flash of my neighbor's gun when 

260 



SURROUNDED BY KIOWAS 

next he fired. I could not see that the other In- 
dian had attempted to recover his rifle and was 
disposed to think that my first shot had perhaps 
made him no longer dangerous. 

While still lying among the bales of fur, looking 
out of the new port-hole I had cut, my neighbor 
up the gulch sent another bullet through the tent, 
above me, that would have hit me if I had remained 
in my former position. 

I fired at the flash of his gun, but could not tell 
whether I had done him any harm. At all events, 
he seemed discouraged, for no more shots came 
from either Indian. 

The hole I had cut near the bottom of the tent 
V7as on the east side, facing the stable door. The 
two doors of the tent were on the north and south 
sides. These I untied and propped a little open 
so that I could look out either way occasionally; 
I saw no further signs of activity of the enemy, and 
toward morning, as the air grew cold, I cut the 
thongs that bound a bale of buffalo robes and 
made a fairly comfortable bed, whence I could keep 
a sharp lookout. 

It was a long, dreary, wretched night of anxiety. 
The soldiers did not come, and without them I could 
see no hope of escape for my comrades or myself. 

As everything seemed so quiet in my vicinity I 
slipped down into the dugout, through the tunnel, 
and brought up some more cartridges and some 
food and cold coffee. 

261 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

On looking out of my port-hole again I noticed 
with a hopeless feeling that daylight was fast com- 
ing and as yet no sign or sound of the hoped-for 
rescuers. 

Suddenly I detected the sound of tramping 
horses' feet, and springing to my feet to get a bet- 
ter view out of the tent door, I looked in the direc- 
tion from which the sounds came and could see 
indistinctly a party of mounted men, on the trot, 
skirting along the foot of the bluffs just southeast 
of camp, as though intending to pass it from the 
direction of To hausen's village. 

"Could they be a reinforcement of Kiowas going 
to join Satank's party .^" I asked myself. "No, 
they were keeping too well closed up for Indians. 
It must be Captain Saunders' company, and they 
have somehow missed the trail that would have 
taken them to the besieged wagon. But why don't 
they come here, instead of going by on the trot.?" 

While putting these puzzling questions to my- 
self I was standing with the folds of the tent door 
slightly parted, peeping out stealthily, lest the 
bullet of my lurking foe might find me. When the 
party of mounted men were nearly opposite our 
tent I noticed one from the head of the column 
branch off and strike a gallop in my direction, and 
a moment later the welcome voice of Wild Bill 
called out: 

* Halloo, Peck, are you still a-kicking.?'* 

Answering him with an affirmative shout, I 

262 



SURROUNDED BY KIOWAS 

stepped out, forgetting for the moment the Indian 
who was watching for a shot at me. He failed to 
take advantage of the opportunity, for he saw 
that he was trapped and made a dash up out of 
the ravine and ran for the nearest point of bushes 
just back of our burned haystack. 

I called to Bill, who was on the same side of the 
ravine as the fleeing Kiowa: 

"Head him ofF, Bill! Kill him! Kill him!" 

The scout instantly turned his horse and dashed 
after the Indian, who, seeing that he could not 
reach the brush before being overtaken, halted, 
turned, took deUberate aim at the oncoming horse- 
man, and fired. 

Down went horse and rider in a heap. The 
Kiowa dropped his rifle, drew his knife, and 
started forward to finish his fallen foe. As Bill 
was now between me and the Indian I was afraid 
to fire for fear of hitting my friend, who, I saw, was 
struggling to free himself from his dead horse. I 
ran across the ravine to where I thought I could 
help Bill, and before I reached the top of the bank 
on the other side I heard a shot and then Bill's 
war-whoop. 

When I got in sight of them again Bill was still 
lying down, one foot under his dead horse, and 
the Kiowa was lying a few feet from him. 

I rushed to him and helped to free him from his 
horse. On getting on his feet he assured me that 
he was not hurt, and then, looking toward the 

263 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

Kiowa and noticing that his enemy was not yet 
dead, with an exultant war-whoop Bill whipped 
out his knife, sprang to his dying foe, anxious to 
scalp him. 

I had been so absorbed in this affair that I 
had not noticed that Captain Saunders with his 
troopers had turned out of his course and now 
came galloping up to us; seeing which Bill called 
out impatiently to the captain, waving him back: 

"Don't stop here. Cap! There's only one In- 
jun here, and I've fixed him! We're losing time, 
and we've lost too much already. I'm afraid 
them Kiowas out yonder'll get away from us yet. 
Shove your men along out that way lively." 

And then suddenly stopping to listen to a rattle 
of firearms out toward the wagon, he exclaimed: 

"There, do you hear that? Your lieutenant's 
opening the ball out there right now and them 
Kiowas'll be coming a-tearing this way in a few 
minutes. String your men out so's to catch them. 
I'll overtake you." 

"But what will you do for a horse?" asked 
Saunders as he gave command for moving: 

"I'll borrow Peck's black horse." 

Saunders immediately put his men on the gallop 
toward the wagon on the prairie. 

Taking Bill's hint of a remount, I rushed to the 
stable and got Prince out, while he was getting 
his saddle and bridle off his dead horse; and while 
hurriedly saddling the black horse Bill was giving 

264 



SURROUNDED BY KIOWAS 

me a brief account of how they came to be here 
at our camp instead of at the wagon. 

"Found come through to Fort Larned on time, 
all right/' he said, "and wanted to come back 
with me, but I locked him in my room. It took an 
everlasting time for Saunders to get his company 
ready to move. Well, after we started, I con- 
cluded that the Kiowas would hear us a-coming 
and get away, unless we could get around in their 
rear. So I got the captain to divide his men, 
leaving twenty, under Lieutenant Wilson, to lay 
around over about Ash Creek hollow until nigh day- 
light, and then to move up onto the Injuns around 
the wagon and start them this way, while with the 
other thirty men we got around on this side of 
them. WeVe been riding like the devil, but it 
was a long ways to go to get around here, and 
Lieutenant Wilson was to make the attack on his 
side at daylight, anyway, and he's a-doing it all 
right." 

By this time we had Prince saddled, and, spring- 
ing onto him, as he galloped after Saunders's party 
Bill called back to me: 

"Keep a sharp lookout. Peck, till we get back 
here, for there may be some skulkers laying for 
you in the timber 'round here." 



265 



CHAPTER XXIV 

CAPTAIN SAUNDERS' FIGHT 

/"^LANCING around as Bill galloped away, I 
^-' plainly saw, in the bushes at the edge of the 
timber back of our burnt haystack, two Indian 
ponies tied to some bushes, with saddles and 
bridles on. They were the mounts of the two 
Kiowas who had entertained me throughout the 
night and one of whom Bill had just killed. 

The other fellow, who set fire to the haystack, 
I supposed had made good his escape. 

And, as I thought this, I naturally turned to 
look at the spot from where he had fired the burn- 
ing arrow. 

"Fm sure I hit him when I shot at him out of 
the tent," I said to myself. "I wonder if I hurt 
him much? Fll just step down there and see if 
there is any blood on the ground." 

As I approached the spot I saw something like 
the end of a dirty blanket showing from behind the 
jutting bank where he had been concealed, and, 
fearing that the Indian, wounded, might be lying 
there waiting to shoot me, I cocked my rifle and 
crept cautiously around to where I could see be- 
hind the projecting bank; and there lay the Indian, 

266 



CAPTAIN SAUNDERS' FIGHT 

sure enough, but without sign of life. On a nearer 
approach I found he was dead and cold — probably 
having bled to death soon after I had shot him. 

On turning the body over to get a good look at 
his face, I was somewhat astonished to recognize 
the features of old Broken Nose, the medicine-man 
from To hausen's camp. 

Leaving the body where it was, I hurried back 
to the tent to climb up on the derrick with the 
field-glass, anxious to see what I could of the fight 
between the Kiowas and soldiers out on the prai- 
rie. There was not much to see. 

Saunders' party had been delayed too long in 
making the detour to get in the rear of the enemy. 
Lieutenant Wilson had made his attack at day- 
light, according to orders, and the Indians, aban- 
doning their siege of the wagon, were retreating 
to the nearest point of the Walnut Creek timber. 

From my stand I could see Saunders' party try- 
ing to cut off the fleeing Indians from the timber, 
but they seemed to succeed in intercepting only a 
few of the hindmost ones. Saunders, Wild Bill, 
and party went on in pursuit of the fleeing Kiowas 
until they passed out of sight behind a point of 
timber. 

Turning my glass toward the wagon, I could 
see a party of soldiers gathered around it. Soon 
the wagon started moving toward our camp, ac- 
companied by the mounted men. The soldiers 
must have recaptured the mules and harness. 

267 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

As the wagon party came down the grade from 
the upland at a brisk trot, it occurred to me that 
they would all be as hungry as coyotes, and, rush- 
ing down into the dugout, I began doing what I 
could to prepare something for them to eat. 

Lieutenant Wilson came galloping on ahead to 
tell me the results of the fight at his end of the line, 
not knowing that I had witnessed nearly all of it 
through the glass. Jack and Tom, he said, were 
both wounded, but not seriously. They had killed 
three Kiowas and two ponies before the soldiers 
arrived, and the latter had killed five more Indians 
and captured several ponies in the attack at day- 
light. 

I told the lieutenant what arrangement I 
had planned for feeding his men — ^which he said 
would be satisfactory — and also that we had grain 
enough to give his horses a feed but no hay. 

As the wagon came up I rushed to it to con- 
gratulate my comrades on their escape and to as- 
certain the extent of their injuries. 

"Only a few scratches," said Jack indifferently, 
in spite of his pale looks, as he climbed out of the 
wagon with his left arm in a sling. "I got an 
arrow through me arm, but Tom is worse hurted 
— a bullet through his thigh but no bones broke. 
Have you anything to eat.^" 

I helped Tom out and supported him on one side 
as he hobbled down to the dugout. Meantime, 
the lieutenant and his troopers were taking care 

268 



CAPTAIN SAUNDERS' FIGHT 

of their horses, after which some of them unhar- 
nessed the mules for us while others started a fire 
and began to cook their breakfast. 

As I entered the dugout with Tom, I no- 
ticed my blankets lying on the floor, where I had 
dropped them on my hurried entry the night 
before, and after helping the old man to a seat I 
gathered up the bedding to make him a pallet. 
In doing this the bullet that old Broken Nose had 
fired into the bundle dropped to the floor. 

"There, Tom," I said as I picked it up and 
handed it to him, "is a last token from your old 
friend, Broken Nose." 

"What.? Has the old rascal been here? Why 
didn't you kill him?" he asked eagerly. 

"I did. He's lying down the ravine yonder, a 
little way. He and another had me corralled here 
all night, but I got Broken Nose and Wild Bill 
got the other." 

While I cooked breakfast I told them all about 
my little aflTair of the past night. 

"While the coffee's a-boihng, heutenant," said 
Jack after I had finished, "come on and we'll go 
and take a look at the dead Injuns. I want to 
make sure that they're good and dead." 

As they started out I called to them: 

"While you're at it, go over to the brush yon- 
der, behind the burnt haystack, and bring in the 
two Indians' ponies. I haven't had time to gather 
them in yet/' 

269 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

In a little while they returned, bringing the 
horses and tying them to the wagon. 

**You and Bill sure did a good job on them 
two," said Jack as he and Wilson re-entered the 
cabin. "Fm only sorry I didn't have the pleasure 
of doing the business for old Broken Nose myself, 
for I was owing him that." 

We had just finished eating our breakfast when 
one of the soldiers called out: 

"Here comes Wild Bill riding like the devil was 
after him! Wonder what's up?" 

Looking in the direction that Saunders's party 
had gone, we saw the scout coming back alone, 
riding rapidly. 

When he reached us he said that Captain Saun- 
ders and two of his men were wounded, one horse 
killed and several wounded. One soldier was 
thought to be fatally hurt; and Bill had come for 
our team and wagon to haul them to our camp, as 
the two soldiers were unable to sit on their horses. 

We were soon busy hitching up the mules while 
Bill gave us the particulars of their fight. It ap- 
peared that in chasing the fleeing Kiowas, Bill, 
accompanied by several soldiers, had become sep- 
arated from Saunders and the main party, and the 
scout, not being at hand to guide the captain, the 
latter in his eager pursuit of the enemy had made 
the mistake of closely following the Indians into 
the timber, which blunder they had anticipated 
and had ambushed the soldiers. 

270 



CAPTAIN SAUNDERS' FIGHT 



ct 



I thought Cap. knew better than that," said 
Bill, *'but it was partly my fault. I knew he'd 
never fought Injuns before, and I ought to have 
stayed with him and stopped him short of the 
brush." 

In spite of his crippled condition, old Tom came 
hobbling out of the dugout, with his little medi- 
cine-chest and a bundle of rags under his arm for 
bandages, and insisted on going with the team to 
do what he could for the wounded. 

Jack's wounded arm prevented him from han- 
dhng the team, so we left him in camp and I went 
along to drive the mules. Lieutenant Wilson had 
received orders to remam at our camp with his 
detachment until further orders. 

After being helped into the wagon, Tom's fore- 
sight prompted him to call to me: 

"Peck, throw in some bedding and get some 
grub — sugar, coflFee, hardtack, and meat — to take 
along, and a camp kettle and frying-pan and a 
few tin cups." 

I remembered the bale of buffalo robes I had cut 
open in the tent the night before for my own com- 
fort and, calling one of the soldiers to help me, 
brought them out and tumbled them into the 
wagon, with the desired rations and utensils. I 
then took the Hnes and whip and started at a trot, 
guided by Wild Bill riding alongside. 

As we trotted along I asked the scout: 

"How many Kiowas did you and Saunders' 
party kill.?" 

271 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

*'The returns are not all in yet," replied Bill, 
*'but I think we got seven or eight. I got three 
of them for my share. That was all I could catch 
before they got into the timber; and, of course, 
when they got to the brush I had to give up the 
chase and let them go.'* 

"It's most too good a thing to hope that old 
Satank'll be found among the killed," said Tom. 

"No, I'm afraid we'll not find him among them," 
replied Bill regretfully, "for I reckon his luck has 
saved him again, unless he may be among them 
that were killed out near the wagon. If I can get 
time I'll ride around over the prairie and take a 
good look at all of them, and the old rascal may be 
found among them; but I'll be surprised if he is, 
for he has wonderful luck in getting out of tight 
places." 

"Don't you think. Bill," I asked, "that this was 
rather a badly managed expedition of old Satank's, 
considering that he has the reputation of being 
such a successful raider?" 

"Yes, he's made a bad mess of it this time, sure, 
and a few more such failures'U cause his followers 
to choose another leader. I think he's losing his 
grip on the war-path, and we'll soon see Satanta 
or Big Tree coming to the front as leader of the 
hostile Kiowas. When what's left of these fellows 
get back to their big village and count noses, 
there'll be such a howl against old Satank that I 
don't believe he'll ever be able to get much of a 

272 



CAPTAIN SAUNDERS* FIGHT 

following again. You mark what I tell you, Sa- 
tanta or Big Tree is going to be the war chief of the 
Kiowas hereafter." 

We found Captain Saunders and his men about 
two miles above our camp, dismounted in the edge 
of the timber near the old Indian camp, anxiously 
awaiting our arrival. Saunders himself had his 
head roughly bandaged with an old handkerchief 
because of a glancing arrow wound above his right 
ear, which had bled profusely over his face and 
clothes but was not serious. His horse had re- 
ceived a bullet in the shoulder which lamed him 
badly. 

Supposing from Saunders' appearance that he 
was badly hurt, Tom was going to him to dress his 
wounds when the captain said: 

"Never mind me, Mr. Vance; I'm not hurt 
much; but if you can help poor Dolan there, lying 
behind that tree, do what you can for him. He is 
badly hurt — spitting blood and growing weaker — " 
talking as he led the way to where the wounded 
man lay. "An arrow went through his breast 
and lodged in the neck of a horse a couple of rods 
behind him. I had no idea they could shoot those 
arrows so viciously." 

On examining Dolan's wound, Tom's experience 
told him that the man was past any help that he 
could render, for the arrow had gone through the 
lung, and an inward hemorrhage seemed to be 
slowly sapping his life. Dressing the wound and 

273 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

giving the man a stimulant, Tom and the captain 
consulted together for a moment and then in- 
formed the patient that, though his case was quite 
serious, it was not altogether hopeless and that 
his only chance was to be hurried back to Fort 
Larned, where the post surgeon could give him 
proper attention. 

The other man who had been reported wounded 
had a broken arm. Tom spHnted and bandaged 
it, and the two were soon made comparatively 
comfortable among the buffalo robes in the wagon. 
Several others had received slight wounds but 
were "able for duty.'' 

While this had been going on, Saunders' men 
had gotten out the grub and utensils, fried some 
meat and made some coffee and now called us up 
to eat. This was the first intimation to Saunders 
that there was such a luxury as food in the outfit, 
and as he sniffed the pleasant aroma of the boiling 
coffee he turned to Tom and me and thanked us 
for our thoughtfulness. 

"Captain," said Tom after we had eaten, "it's 
time that team was on the way to Fort Larned. 
What are your plans for getting these men there? 
If I can help you in any way, I'm at your ser- 
vice. 

"Thanks," replied Saunders. "My plan is to 
send a half dozen men along with the wagon as an 
escort and some responsible man in charge. I 
will then move down to your camp and, taking 

274 



CAPTAIN SAUNDERS' FIGHT 

Wilson and party from there, move on down to 
To hausen's village and try to find out whether 
his people have been harboring these hostiles; and 
then to-morrow we'll all move into the fort. I 
will send a requisition in by the team to bring out 
some grain for the horses to-morrow and any other 
suppHes that we may need. It will be best that 
we stay and see you all safely into Fort Larned." 
Then turning to Wild Bill, he asked: "Do you 
think, Bill, that six men will be a sufficient escort 
to go with the wagon and wounded men — do you 
think there is any danger of their meeting hostile 
Kiowas?" 

"None but dead ones," replied Bill. "The team 
can go through all right now." 

"Well," said Saunders, "I had thought of ask- 
ing Mr. Vance or Mr. Peck to take charge of the 
wounded men and see them through." 

"Tom'U be the man for that," suggested Bill, 
''for the wounded men may need some help on 
the way." 

"Well, that's settled," said Tom impatiently, as 
he started for the wagon without waiting for the 
captain's decision. "Captain, please detail the 
escort and start them on after me; they can soon 
overtake us." And, climbing into the wagon, he 
took up the whip and lines and started. 

The captain quickly mounted the escort and 
hurried them after the wagon; and then he him- 
self mounted the horse of one of the wounded 

275 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

men and we set out for our camp, I riding one of 
the Kiowa ponies captured in the fight. 

The horses were a rather scrawny-looking lot, 
as the Indian ponies generally are at this season 
of the year — the result of starvation through the 
winter — but, no doubt, there was in them good 
mettle that would show itself as soon as the grass 
came; for the Indian warrior always selects his 
fleetest and toughest horse to ride when going on 
the war-path. 

Arrived at the camp. Captain Saunders had his 
men unsaddle and water their horses and picket 
them out for an hour's rest before starting down to 
To hausen's village. 

Some of Lieutenant Wilson's men had killed 
several antelope and had cooked up a great lot of 
the meat, anticipating that Saunders' men would 
come in hungry, as they did. Saunders, Wilson, 
Bill, and I adjourned to the dugout to eat the 
meal Jack had prepared for us. 

While we were eating I told Captain Saunders 
something of my experience of the previous night 
and exhibited the bullet that old Broken Nose 
had fired into the bundle of blankets in my arms. 



276 



CHAPTER XXV 

WE PART FROM FRIENDS 

^ I ^HE captain's party returned from To haus- 
-■- en's village about sunset. He said that he 
had had an amicable and satisfactory talk with 
the old chief and his followers, all of whom reit- 
erated their former professions of friendship for 
the whites and declared that they would have 
no intercourse with the hostiles. 

"We've got to take that," said Wild Bill, who 
had been interpreter at the talk, "with a grain of 
salt, for while I was there I found out, by pumping 
some of their youngsters and women, that they 
were pretty well posted about the whole affair up 
to the time that Lieutenant Wilson put in an ap- 
pearance and stampeded them this morning, which 
goes to show that a few of To hausen's bucks 
were with Satank up to that time; and in the 
stampede these fellows must have skedaddled back 
to To hausen's camp and told about the fight 
as far as they had been in it. But they didn't 
seem to know about our part of the fight up the 
creek nor about old Broken Nose and this other 
Indian getting their medicine here. I told them 
about that part of it. And, to make it appear hke 

277 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

old Nosey had gotten just what was coming to 
him, I told them that the man who got away with 
him was the same one that old Nosey had tried to 
burn up when he set fire to the grass out in the 
bottom that day." 

"Good for you, Bill!" exclaimed Jack. *'I don't 
want to rob Peck of the credit, but it's better to 
let his people think that I evened up with the old 
rascal at last." 

After supper, as night settled down, the cold 
wind reminded us of another difficulty that few 
of us had yet thought of. What were we to do for 
bedding for the soldiers who had come away from 
the garrison in a hurry without any thought of 
being out overnight ^ 

About tattoo the rattling of a wagon was heard 
out on the trail toward Fort Larned. It seemed 
impossible that Tom could be coming back from 
the fort so soon with our mule team, but a wagon 
was approaching from that direction. 

We were all out upon the bank looking and 
listening and speculating as to who the coming 
parties could be when we heard the sentry on 
that side of the grounds challenge: "Halt! Who 
comes there?" And then, apparently assuming 
the right to pass upon the credentials of the new- 
comers without the regulation formality of calling 
for the sergeant of the guard, the sentry admitted 
two mounted men, who came cantering up to the 
camp-fire. 

278 



WE PART FROM FRIENDS 

The arrivals were two troopers who reported 
that a little way behind them two six-mule teams 
were coming, escorted by a dozen cavalrymen 
under charge of a sergeant. They had been sent 
out by the commanding officer, at Tom's sugges- 
tion, as quickly as they could be hitched up after 
our team with the wounded men had arrived at 
the fort. 

In a few minutes the teams and escort came up, 
admitted by the sentry. We soon learned the re- 
sults of Tom's trip. The badly wounded soldier, 
Dolan, had died shortly after Tom's arrival at the 
post. On reaching the fort Tom drove immedi- 
ately to the adjutant's office and reported to the 
commanding officer the result of the fight and the 
condition of the wounded, and then hurried on to 
the hospital, followed by the major and several 
other officers and soldiers, all eager to learn all the 
particulars. 

By this time Tom's wounded leg had made him 
so lame that he realized the impossibiUty of his 
returning to our camp with the suppHes; and our 
mule team, also, was not in condirion to return 
immediately, so he suggested to the major that a 
couple of six-mule teams be quickly hitched up 
and started under escort for the camp with ra- 
tions and feed for Saunders' men and horses; and 
he very thoughtfully, also, advised sending the 
blankets of Saunders' troopers, all of which was 
promptly ordered. 

279 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

One team would have been ample to have taken 
the supplies to Saunders, but Tom calculated that 
by sending two the second team, in the absence 
of our own, could be used, in returning next day, 
to move our plunder into the post. 

Captain Saunders could not say enough in praise 
of the old man's forethought and unselfishness. 
**He is certainly a valuable man among soldiers," 
he said, '*for he always seems to know what to 
do and how to do it." 

"Cap," interjected Wild Bill, '*you will please 
bear in mind that I suggested that Tom was the 
man to send on that trip." 

**So you did," admitted Saunders, "and you 
certainly knew your man." 

I had assigned the use of our tent to Captain 
Saunders' guard detail; and by stuffing a bale of 
skins into the mouth of the tunnel under the tri- 
pod, to stop the draught, and carrying the other 
bales outside, they made for themselves very com- 
fortable quarters. 

The other men made their beds on the open 
prairie, outside the tent, with their saddles for pil- 
lows; and most of them turned in early, to get out 
of the cold night wind and from weariness, while 
a few still sat around the camp-fire talking over 
the events of the day. 

The officers and Wild Bill prepared to sleep with 
us in the cabin, and after we had spread down our 
beds I spoke to Bill about the events of the morn- 
ing and the loss of his horse. 

280 



WE PART FROM FRIENDS 

"Yes," said he, **there ain't but one horse in the 
country that's as good as my CharHe, and maybe 
a Httle better in some ways, and that's your Black 
Prince; and I'm going to try to coax you boys to 
sell me that horse because I've fell in love with 
him and I need him bad in my business." 

"Why, Bill," said Jack, laughing heartily at the 
scout's guilelessness, "you ain't no sort of a horse 
trader. When you want to buy a man's horse 
you should run him down and make him out no 
account instead of bragging on him." 

"If I was dealing with horse-jockeys I might do 
that way," returned Bill, "but when I'm a-dealing 
with honest men who I know won't take any ad- 
vantage of me I Hke to deal on the square with 
them; and I tell you, honest Injun, that Black 
Prince is about the best horse I ever threw a leg 
over. I've heard that you boys have refused an 
offer of two hundred and fifty dollars from some 
of the officers at the fort. Now, I'll tell you what 
I'll do, I'll give you three hundred for him; and 
if that ain't enough I'll give you more. I ain't 
got the money with me, but when we get over to 
the fort I can get it from Weisselbaum. Now, 
what do you say to that.?" 

It was amusing to listen to the unsophisticated 
proposition of this free-hearted, unselfish fellow. 
He did not take into consideration that he had 
just rendered each of us a service of far greater 
value than several such horses. He did not con- 

281 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

sider that we were in any way indebted to him on 
account of his horse being killed in our service. 
No; that was merely one of the misfortunes of war. 

But Tom, Jack, and I, although we had not said 
a word to each other about it, had each mentally 
decided that we ought to present the black horse 
to Wild Bill to make good his loss and to show 
our appreciation of his manly response and price- 
less service in our hour of need. 

In reply to his question, "What do you say?" 
and an expressive look from Jack, I said : 

"Not having consulted my partners about the 
matter, Bill, of course I can't speak for them, but 
I think it's a safe guess that you'll get the horse; 
and there is plenty of time in the future to settle 
on the price." 

"Well, now, that's the way I like to hear you 
talk," said he with a gratified smile. "When we 
get over to the fort, you and Jack can talk it over 
with Tom and let me know the price you agree 
on, and I'll dig up the money." 

The night passed quietly. As Bill had said, the 
hostiles had been too badly whipped to think of 
returning to attack us. After breakfast next 
morning the horses were saddled and the wagons 
packed; and marching out on the Fort Larned 
trail, the company moved first in "column of 
fours," followed by the two six-mule teams, and 
then came the "cavvy-yard," driven by the men 
of the guard acting as "rear-guard." Bill, Jack, 

282 



WE PART FROM FRIENDS 

and I rode at the head of the column with the 
company officers. 

As we reached the crest of the grade coming 
onto the upland, about two miles from our recent 
camp, with the officers we turned out on the side 
of the trail as the command marched by, to take 
a parting look at Camp Coyotelope; and we no- 
ticed what appeared to be a number of Indians — 
some mounted and some afoot — moving about in 
the vicinity of the dugouts. 

"Some of To hausen's people," suggested Bill, 
*' looking after the bodies of old Nosey and his 
pard and gathering up the leavings about the old 
camp. They'll take them two dead bucks back 
to their camp and bury them." 

I had dismounted and taken out our field-glass 
to get a better view of the Indians and verified 
the scout's surmise, for I could plainly see a group 
gathered about the body of each of the two dead 
Indians, apparently lifting them onto their ponies. 

"There, Peck," said Bill, noticing the field-glass 
I held, "is another thing I'd Hke to buy or trade 
you out of, for I got mine broke yesterday morn- 
ing when my horse fell with me; and I need glasses, 
and you're going back to Leavenworth where you 
can easy get another pair." As he took the glass 
to examine it, he asked: "How much is it 
worth?" 

"It cost us twenty dollars in Leavenworth," I 
replied. "They are handy things to have on the 

283 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

plains, but we won't need it much going back to 
the settlements. I'll speak to Tom about it and 
I guess we'll let you have it when we get ready to 
start on the home-stretch from Fort Larned." 

*'Well, it ought to be worth more out here than 
it cost you in Leavenworth and I'll pay you what- 
ever you think it's worth. Of course, I ain't got 
the money now, for it's going to take all I can 
borrow, I reckon, to pay you for this horse; but 
if you'll trust me till I come in to Leavenworth, 
I'll pay you then — that is I'm supposing that you 
fellows will hang up in Leavenworth for a while — 
anyway, till you blow in your money." 

"Well, as to Tom and me," remarked Jack, **I 
believe each of us has planned to take a trip East 
when we get in, but I think it'll be a safe wager 
that you'll find Peck about Leavenworth, for 
there's a curly-headed girl there that he talks 
about in his sleep." 

"Well, that do settle it," said Bill with a chuckle 
and a wink at Jack. 

As we passed over the recent battle-field, we rode 
around and looked at the bodies of all the dead 
Kiowas, hoping though hardly expecting to find 
Satank, but were disappointed — the murderous 
old fiend had escaped again. These bodies were 
all considerably torn by the wolves, but their fea- 
tures were still in good enough condition to have 
enabled us to identify him had he been among 
the fallen. An inscrutable Providence permitted 

284 



WE PART FROM FRIENDS 

this bloodthirsty demon to roam the plains for 
several years longer. 

As we neared the post, several officers and sol- 
diers came out to meet us, anxious to hear all about 
the fight. The cavvy-yard of captured ponies, 
with their Indian saddles and bridles, together 
with other trophies of the fight carried by Saun- 
ders' men, attracted much attention. Saunders' 
men seemed much elated over the fact that this, 
their first engagement with the Indians, had been 
so successfully planned and executed. 

As the captain with his company turned ofF to 
their stable. Bill, Jack, and I, accompanied by the 
six-mule team carrying our plunder, moved on 
through the garrison and estabKshed our camp 
about a half mile below, in a snug bend of Paw- 
nee Fork. 

After unloading our stuff from the wagon, we 
sent the team back to the garrison and then set 
about pitching our tent and making ourselves com- 
fortable, for we expected to have to remain here 
several days, partly on Tom's account and partly 
to wait for Kitchen's train, which was coming in 
from New Mexico, by which we expected to ship 
our wolfskins to Leavenworth, provided we did 
not sell them here. 

After getting everything in shape, leaving Jack 
to mind camp and cook dinner, Bill and I returned 
to the post to call on Tom at the hospital, to re- 
lease Found, who was still locked in Bill's room, 
and to bring our mule team back to camp. 

285 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

We found the old man still badly crippled from 
the wound in his thigh, but the doctor thought he 
would be able to travel in a few days. 

The faithful dog was glad to see us and to be 
released. He was quite hungry, for he had had 
nothing to eat since the feed I gave him in the 
dugout before starting him with the message to 
Bill. 

As I was hitching up our mule team at Saun- 
ders' company stable, the captain came by and in- 
sisted on my going with him to the commissary 
and loading in some rations and feed which he had 
procured a requisition for, to replace the supplies 
that his men and horses had consumed at Camp 
Coyotelope. 

The work of settling up our business affairs and 
getting everything ready for the return trip now 
devolved upon me, though I had the benefit of 
consultation with Tom on all matters of impor- 
tance. 

As already stated, our winter's catch of wolf- 
skins numbered something over three thousand. 
These were all dried and baled in one of Weissel- 
baum's warerooms. About one fourth of these 
pelts were of the large gray wolves, or 'Hobos," as 
the Mexicans call them, which, at that time, were 
rated on the plains at one dollar and twenty-five 
cents each. The other three fourths were coy- 
otes, worth seventy-five cents each. Besides these, 
there were several bales of the skins of the little 

286 



WE PART FROM FRIENDS 

yellow fox, worth twenty-five cents each. At 
these figures, the entire lot should bring us some- 
thing over twenty-six hundred dollars. On Tom's 
advice I offered the whole to Weisselbaum for 
twenty-five hundred, but he seemed to think he 
could get them for less and held off. 

One day when negotiations had reached this 
stage. Kitchen's mule train rolled in and camped 
near us. This brought business to a focus with 
Weisselbaum and he immediately hurried down 
to our camp, accepted my offer, and wrote me out 
a check on Clark & Gruber* (M. E. Clark & E. H. 
Gruber), bankers of Leavenworth city, for twenty- 
five hundred dollars. In addition to this, I drew 
from his safe the three hundred and fifty dollars 
that we had deposited with him. 

It is a well-known fact that in the dry, pure 
atmosphere of the plains, flesh wounds heal with 
astonishing rapidity. It may have been, in Tom's 
case, that the satisfactory closing up of our busi- 
ness affairs had something to do with it, but about 
this time Jack and I were astonished as well as 
pleased to see Tom come Hmping into camp and 
report for duty. 

Bill had sent word by Tom that he. Captain 
Saunders, and Lieutenant Wilson were coming 
down to take supper with us, and just after retreat 
all three rode into camp accompanied by Found. 

*This firm about this time minted private gold coins known as 
Pike's Peak coins. 

287 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

"Now, boys," said Bill as he dismounted and 
tied Black Prince to the wagon, "you haven't told 
me yet how much you're going to tax me for this 
horse, and if you'll let me know I'll go right up to 
Weisselbaum's and get the greenbacks for you, 
for he said he'd let me have them." 

"We've talked the matter over. Bill," said Tom, 
speaking for our party, "an' have concluded that, 
seeing as how you lost your best horse in our 
service, and in consideration of the good service 
you've done us all the way along, an' old-time 
friendship and so forth, that it'll be no more'n 
right for us to make you a present of Black Prince, 
subject only to the condition that if the rightful 
owner of the horse ever turns up and claims him 
you'll then have to make terms with him; but 
that's a very remote possibility." 

"Do you mean it, Tom.f* Is that so, boys?" 
asked the scout in confused astonishment at such 
good luck as he looked around from one to an- 
other of us. "Am I to have that fine horse with- 
out paying you a dollar.?" 

"That's what! That's the job we've put up on 
you," we repHed. 

"Well, now, boys — " stammered Bill in a diffi- 
dent sort of way as he seemed to be trying to 
study up a nice little speech of thanks. 

"Aw, give us a rest!" interrupted old Tom in 
his rough and good-humored effort to help Bill out 
of his embarrassment. "The horse is yours, and 

288 



WE PART FROM FRIENDS 

I don't want to hear anything more out of you 
about it." 

Knowing that Bill was an expert shot with rifle 
or pistol, it had occurred to me, since he had ex- 
pressed a desire to buy our field-glass, to exact of 
him a sample of his marksmanship as his signature 
to a promissory note for the price of the glass; and 
accordingly I had selected the ace of diamonds 
from our old, much-soiled deck of cards and had 
written across the face of it: 



^20. 
On demand, after date, I promise to pay 
to R. M. Peck the sum of Twenty Dollars, 
($20.)> for value received. 

his 

Wild <5> Bill. 

mark. 

Fort Larned, Kan. 
Mar. 17, 1862. 



"But, Bill," I put in after Tom had cut him off 
short about the horse, "I ain't going to let you off 
so cheap on that field-glass deal. You'll have to 
give me your note for the twenty dollars." 

"Well, I guess I can borrow that much from 
Cap Saunders or Mr. Wilson, here, and pay you 
the cash," he repHed. 

289 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

**No, I don't want the money — I want your 
note written on this card, signed by a bullet shot 
by you through the centre of the ace at ten 
paces." 

Saying which, I produced the card I had pre- 
pared and read the inscription to him. 

"Now, I'll tack the card up on this tree here," 
I continued, "and you are to stand with your back 
against the card, pistol in hand, step off ten paces, 
'bout face, and fire a bullet through the ace. And 
if you don't knock the centre out it's no go — I'll 
have to write another note on another ace and 
you'll have to try it again." 

"Huh! that's easy," said Bill with a grin of 
confidence. "You won't have to waste any more 
of your cards." 

I knew he could do it, even at twenty paces, for 
I had seen him perform such feats before. With 
the utmost indifference, he backed up to the card on 
the tree, stepped off ten paces — good, long-legged 
measure — made a graceful "ofl&cer's about face," 
instantly firing, without apparently taking aim, as 
he came around facing the card; and we could all 
see the hole in the centre of the bright-red ace. 

"By George, that's good shooting!" exclaimed 
Saunders in unfeigned astonishment. "Can you 
do it again. Bill, or was that just an accident.?" 

"I'll put another ball in the same hole for you," 
replied the scout carelessly as he threw up his 
pistol and fired. 

290 



WE PART FROM FRIENDS 

Saunders' and Wilson's incredulity prompted 
them to step up to the tree and examine the card 
closely. 

"Guess you must have missed the whole tree 
that time, Bill," said the captain after scrutinizing 
the card and tree carefully. *'The hole isn't made 
any larger that I can see and I can't find any 
other hole in the tree." 

"Of course not. I didn't want to spoil the card; 
but the second bullet is in there, right on top of the 
first one, and I'll bet a horse on it. Now, stand 
out of the way till I show you another trick. I'm 
going to take off the right-hand point of the dia- 
mond this time." 

And at the crack of his pistol the right point 
disappeared — the last hole just cutting into the 
edge of the first one. 

"Now, look out for the left-hand point." 

And the left point was gone — all the red being 
obliterated but a little streak above and below 
the first hole. 

"There, Peck," he remarked regretfully as he 
began reloading his pistol, "I had to pretty nigh 
spoil the card to show these fellows I wasn't 
a-faking." 

"Don't that beat the devil?" remarked Wilson, 
looking from the target to Bill and from Bill to 
the target in undisguised astonishment. 

"Well, I've heard of such phenomenal shoot- 
ing," said Saunders, "but never saw the like be- 

291 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

fore and wouldn^t have believed it possible if I 
hadn't seen it. Ain't there some trick about it, 
Bill?" 

**Not as I know of — nothing but what youVe 
seen. Now, if you think that second shot missed 
the tree, Cap," remarked the scout as he took 
down the card and passed it around for inspection, 
"take that axe, there, and chop 'em all out, and 
if you don't find four navy balls in there I'll eat 
the chips." 

Lieutenant Wilson seized the axe and soon cut 
out the four battered but distinct bullets. 

"I'd give a good deal if I could shoot like that. 
How do you do it. Bill?" asked the captain. 

"Dunno how I do it," replied the scout. "I 
always could put my bullets about where I wanted 
to and can't tell how I do it, either. I don't try 
very hard, but just throw her up and turn loose 
without taking any particular aim, and somehow 
the ball goes right where I look. Of course, I 
keep in good practice, and that helps some, I 
suppose." 

"Practice won't explain it, captain," said old 
Tom. "It's a gift — a natural talent that some 
men find themselves possessed of. The same as 
some men have the natural gift of writing a beau- 
tiful hand, and do it with all ease, while others, 
with ever so much practice, can only acquire mod- 
erate skill. Now, Peck, Jack, or me, by constant 
practice, can do fairly well with a pistol or rifle; 

292 



WE PART FROM FRIENDS 

but we can't hold a candle to Bill. The best we 
could probably do, on an average, at fifteen to 
twenty paces, would be to put three to four bul- 
lets out of six in a playing-card, which would be 
good shooting at a man, but Bill can put every 
ball just where he wants 'em to go. I've seen 
him shoot at a five-spot and put a ball in each 
spot just as somebody would call them off to him, 
hke this, * Centre! upper right! upper left! lower 
right! lower left!' putting the balls through the 
centre of each spot as accurately as you could 
punch them with a nail and hammer. And he 
can do nearly as well, too, mounted and on the 
run. But, come, men, supper's getting cold." 

After supper, although his recently wounded 
arm was still somewhat sore. Jack got out his fid- 
dle and played several tunes, and we all joined in 
singing songs. 

In course of conversation I had asked Captain 
Saunders what had become of my former patron. 
Lieutenant Lang, not having seen him about the 
garrison recently. 

"Oh, Lang's out and gone — resigned by spe- 
cial request. Went in on the last Santa Fe 
mail-coach," replied the captain. "Although you 
straightened up his company papers and saved 
him — or his rich daddy, rather — from having to 
pay Uncle Sam a lot of money to square up his 
accounts, still it was evident in many ways that 
he was totally incompetent to manage a company, 

293 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

and he was given a hint from headquarters that 
his resignation would be acceptable." 

Tom, Jack, and I had previously discussed the 
propriety of our making a present of some kind 
to the two officers, in testimony of our apprecia- 
tion of their extremely prompt and timely re- 
sponse in the hour of our extremity, and, as we had 
nothing else available or appropriate, we had de- 
cided to abandon the plan of each having made a 
fine fur overcoat out of some of our beaver and 
otter skins and to give to each officer enough of 
the furs for that purpose. 

At late bedtime, when the officers and Bill were 
getting ready to start back to the garrison, Tom 
brought out and gave to Saunders and Wilson 
each a package of beaver skins, telling them of 
the overcoats we had intended to make of them 
and suggesting that they use them for the same 
purpose. We also gave each officer a couple of 
choice buffalo robes. 

"Now, men/' said Saunders deprecatingly, 
** don't rob yourselves of these furs to reward us 
for doing our simple duty. We don't expect any- 
thing of the kind, are not entitled to any reward, 
and I don't think we ought to accept them, 
and " 

"But, Saunders," interrupted Lieutenant Wil- 
son, "when you come to think of the princely 
overcoats these beaver furs will make, it seems 
to me there would be no harm in accepting them 

294 



WE PART FROM FRIENDS 

— not as pay for doing our duty but just as tokens 
of friendship and good-will from these men." 

**Now you're getting it through you," said 
Tom approvingly. ** That's the idea — ^just a 
friendly gift." And before Saunders could enter 
another remonstrance he added, as he gathered 
up an armful of the robes and skins: "Come, Jack, 
bring the rest and we'll tie them on their horses 
for them." 

As the three men mounted we bade them a 
cordial good-by and expressed a hope to soon 
meet them again in Leavenworth. We each gave 
Found an affectionate farewell hug, for we sin- 
cerely regretted parting with him. 

"You'd best keep Found tied up for a few days. 
Bill," suggested Jack as they started off, "lest 
he should scent our trail and follow us. And 
always take good care of him, for he's got more 
genuine nobility in him than lots of the so-called 
men I've met with." 

"You bet Found'll never want for good treat- 
ment while I'm around," answered Bill; and then, 
"Ta, ta, fellows, I'll see you in Leavenworth 
before long," he called back as they rode away 
into the darkness. 

During this day Mr. Kitchen, the proprietor 
of the neighboring train, had visited our camp 
and, after inspecting our wagon, team, and camp 
outfit closely, had asked if it would be for sale 
when we got through to Leavenworth. 

295 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

I answered: **Yes." 

"What will you take for it delivered to me there 
in as good condition as it is now?" he asked, add- 
ing: "I shall be close on your heels going in." 

After conferring with my partners we agreed 
to deliver the outfit in good shape at Jim Brown*s 
livery stable, Fourth and Shawnee Streets, Leav- 
enworth, for five hundred dollars. Kitchen readily 
agreed to take it and paid us a hundred dollars 
down to clinch the bargain. 



296 



CHAPTER XXVI 

BACK TO GOD'S COUNTRY 

"IT /"E were a cheerful trio next morning as we 
^ ^ started out of camp on the home-stretch for 
** God's country," with Jack singing: "Ain't we 
glad to get out of the wilderness!" 

I had brought my captured ponies along, think- 
ing to use them for riding stock going in and to 
realize something on them after we reached Leav- 
enworth, and for the first day tried them — Jack 
riding one and I the other — but they were in such 
poor condition that by the time we had reached 
Charley Rath's ranch, the first evening, I saw that 
they were not going to be able to stand the travel 
on grass alone — and I had been unable to teach 
them to eat grain — so I left them with Charley, 
with a note to Wild Bill requesting him to dispose 
of them to the best advantage for me, which he 
did, turning in the money to me a few weeks later 
in Leavenworth. 

Our bales of peltries made a bulky but not 
heavy load, and our two mules and two broncos 
hauled it with ease, and, though we were all anx- 
ious now to reach the end of our journey, still we 

297 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

were under contract to deliver the team to Mr. 
Kitchen in Leavenworth in good condition and, 
therefore, must not overdrive. 

Of course each one of us was now doing some 
lively planning for the future. 

"Well, taking all things into consideration," re- 
marked Jack, the first evening after we had got 
settled in camp, "though we're glad to get out of 
the wilderness for a while, weVe done pretty well 
this winter. WeVe had lots of fun, some Hvely ad- 
ventures, and we've made more money than we had 
any idea of when we started into the business." 

"Yes," I repHed, "we'll each have something 
over a thousand dollars in clear cash for our win- 
ter's work, when we divide up, and that's more 
money than I ever possessed before — how is it 
with you fellows.^" 

"Same here," said Jack. 

"Me, too," said Tom. 

"Well," I continued, "I suppose each one of 
you is studying out how he can quickest blow it 
in before re-enlisting?" 

"I don't know about that," repHed old Tom. 
"I expect to re-enhst after a bit, of course, for 
soldiering's the only trade I know and I haven't 
really much use for the money, but I'll not 
squander it fooHshly. I've studied out a better 
use for it. I have a widowed sister with several 
children living on a little farm back in Penn- 
sylvania, and they only make a poor, cornbread 

298 



BACK TO GOD'S COUNTRY 

living off the place by close economy. I've made 
up my mind that the best use I can put this 
money to is to go back there and fix them up in 
good shape — and then I'm off to the war." 

*'Good for you, Tom," I said approvingly, *'but 
then I naturally expected that you would put 
your money to a sensible use. How is it with 
Jack?" 

And Tom and I turned our inquiring looks to 
the Irishman. 

"I know what you think," retorted he quickly. 
"You think you know what'U get away with 
Jack's money. In your minds you see my money 
going for whiskey and me never drawing a sober 
breath till I'm down to bed-rock. But I'm going 
to fool you. I've been doing some thinking for 
myself — and that's a rare thing for Jack, you 
know — an' I says to myself, says I, *Jacky, boy, 
this is the time of your life to do some good for 
your poor kindred in ould Ireland.' I haven't 
heard from any of them for several years and 
don't know who of them is living an' who is dead. 
But I've made up my mind that when we get into 
Leavenworth not a drop will I touch, and soon as 
I crook me fingers on that money I'll hit the trail 
for New York, take passage for the ould dart, and 
If I can find any of my family living I'll bring 
them back with me to this glorious land of liberty, 
where one man's as good as another and a blamed 
sight better if he behaves himself decently. And 

299 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

mind you, now, Tm not going to touch a drop of 
liquor till I get back from the ould country. And 
then, of course, Til re-enHst, for soldiering's my 
best hold." 

Before he was done speaking each of us had ex- 
tended a hand to give him a hearty hand shake of 
encouragement in his good resolution. 

"My boy," said old Tom, with tears in his eyes, 
as he took one of Jack's hands in both his, "you 
don't know how glad it makes me to hear you talk 
that way. If you'll only stick to it, I'd give the 
half of my possessions to help you carry out that 
resolution." 

"Same here. Jack," I added. 

"Well, I'm going to show you that I can and 
will do it." 

After a httle pause Tom inquired : 

"But now about yourself. Peck. What do you 
expect to do with yourself.^" 

"Well, I've made up my mind that I'll not re- 
enhst," I replied. "I've had soldiering enough, I 
think; but I suppose I'll have to enter Uncle Sam's 
service in some shape or other. I noticed when 
we were in Leavenworth before that the quarter- 
master's department at the fort is fitting out a 
good many trains of new six-mule teams; and, as 
that is something to my notion, I think I'll try 
for a job as wagon-master." 

When we reached Council Grove, then the gate- 
way of the border settlements, we felt as if we were 

300 



BACK TO GOD'S COUNTRY 

really getting back into "God's country." As 
we passed the place where we had had the con- 
troversy with the jayhawkers, we stopped a little 
while to have a chat with the old storekeeper and 
told him the disposition we had made of the black 
horse. He had never heard of any owner of the 
horse and did not think it probable that Wild Bill 
would ever be disturbed in his possession of him. 
He had heard nothing more concerning the jay- 
hawkers after they were gobbled up by the soldiers 
and taken to the military prison at Fort Leaven- 
worth. 

When we reached Leavenworth City, we again 
put up at Ned Welch's boarding-house, on Sen- 
eca Street, and our team at Jim Brown's stable. 

A few days later, on the arrival of Mr. Kitchen's 
train, we transferred our team and camp outfit to 
him, as per agreement, divided up the cash pro- 
ceeds of our expedition, and the wolf hunters dis- 
banded, promising to keep track of each other in 
the future by correspondence. 

Then Jack and Tom started East, intending to 
travel together as far as Pennsylvania. 

I parted with my dear comrades with sincere 
regret, fearing that in the vicissitudes of the great 
war then getting under good headway, I might 
never see them again. 

When next I heard from Jack he had re-enlisted 
and was back in the old company again. In the 
war he did gallant service and received some hon- 

301 



THE WOLF HUNTERS 

orable scars, re-enlisted again after the war and 
in his last enlistment took service in the Seventh 
Cavalry, and was one of the last remnant of that 
doomed band who with their gallant leader met a 
heroic death on that fatal knoll by the Little Big 
Horn River on Sunday, June 25, 1876. With few 
serious faults, and many virtues, our untutored, 
wild Irishman was a brave, unselfish, and manly 
man. 

Tom carried out his plan of using his money for 
the benefit of his widowed sister and her children 
on the little farm in Pennsylvania, saw them 
comfortably fixed, and then went to Washington, 
where, through the influence of army officers who 
had known him in the service he obtained a com- 
mission as captain in a volunteer cavalry regiment, 
soon rose to be colonel of the regiment, and at the 
close of the war was a brevet brigadier- general, 
commanding a brigade. 

He had hoped when the war ended to obtain a 
commission in the regular army, but his wounds 
so far disabled him as to unfit him for active ser- 
vice in the regulars. He was, therefore, com- 
pelled to accept a pension and retired to the little 
farm to try to content himself with the dull life 
of citizen. 

After years of perilous adventures and des- 
perate encounters on the frontier, Wild Bill was 
finally assassinated in the city of Deadwood, South 
Dakota, by a wretched gambler. 

302 



BACK TO GOD'S COUNTRY 

And I? Well, of course, I married "the girl I 
left behind me" in Leavenworth City, for which 
piece of wisdom — or good fortune — I have always 
congratulated myself. After getting married I 
took service with Uncle Sam as a wagon-master, 
in which capacity I served through the Civil War, 
in Kansas, Missouri, Arkansas, and the Indian 
Nation. 



303 



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